Red vs Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles Part 3
by BentleyGirl
Summary: The third part of my novelization of the first five series. Please read first two parts to understand this part, although to be honest, not a lot of this part makes any sense anyway. Also read and review. UPDATED! Rated T for swearing
1. The Best Laid Plans

**Hello, readers! Yes, it's time for Part Three of my novelization of Red vs. Blue: The Blood Gulch Chronicles.**

**As usual, I don't own this series or Halo; they belong to their respective owners.**

**Finally, a quick reminder:**

'Normal text' – English

(In Brackets) – Translation for Spanish

'**Bold text**' – O'Malley's speech

**With that done, let's continue!**

* * *

Chapter 1: The Best Laid Plans

In the canyon known as Blood Gulch, two Spartan-II super-soldiers were waiting by the Red Base, keeping themselves busy. One soldier in black armor was having a friendly chat with a Scorpion-Class tank while the other solider, wearing bright pink armor, was sitting next to a badly wounded teal-armored soldier trying to comfort him with his own bedside manner.

"Come on, Mister Blue guy," Private Donut begged the groaning Private Tucker. "You gotta wake up. Wake up!"

"It hurts," Tucker moaned, struggling to move. "Just let me die…"

"You can't die, I'm _bored!_" Donut cried out. "All these girls wanna talk about is _chick stuff_, and not the fun chick stuff like ribbons and unicorns."

He looked round to see Freelancer Tex still chatting to Sheila the tank. "I don't have treads," the Freelancer was saying, "but I often find them staring at things they _really_ shouldn't be."

Donut shuddered then turned back to Tucker."You see? Boring stuff like oppression, and a hostile work environment."

With great difficulty, Tucker rolled onto his back. "Get Doc… I need Doc…"

"I can't," Donut replied. "He got possessed by that evil guy and they escaped. He's the one that shot you, don't you remember?"

"I know," Tucker muttered. "I want him to shoot me again…"

"Now, now, now," Donut scolded, waving his finger like a condescending parent. "Sounds like someone's got a case of the 'poor me's... If you were gonna die, you would have done it by now! Maybe you just need to realize, you're gonna have to live with intense pain."

"Get that Sarge guy," Tucker winced. "Have _him_ make me a new body."

"We can't," Donut sighed. "We're out of parts because we overused that joke. And Sarge left with the others to chase Doc." He smiled as he looked towards the Red Base's teleporter. "But don't you worry; they left a long time ago, so I'm sure they'll be back any minute. Simmons had a fool-proof plan to catch him."

Unfortunately, Donut was being a little too optimistic. He didn't know that somehow the teleporter had been sabotaged and that the other Reds and Blues had gotten separated and were now stuck in other strange new worlds…

Private Simmons from the Red Team had landed in a long corridor with teleporters everywhere and as he wandered around, he found similar corridors, but no sign of Doc/O'Malley, Lopez or the others.

"Hellooooo…" he called out as he entered the umpteenth corridor. "Hello? Is anybody here?" When nobody responded, he sighed. "Just great, I guess we all got separated in the teleporter." He activated the radio com-link in his helmet. "Sarge, this is Simmons 2.0. Do you read me? Apparently your plan to chase Lopez and Doc has failed miserably. I appear to be stuck in some kind of nexus of teleporters which could take me anywhere in the Universe… Or it's a janitor's closet, hell, I don't fucking know…" He waited for a response but he only heard static. "Sarge, are you there? Sarge!"

Meanwhile, the Sergeant of the Red Team was also trying to contact the others. He and Private Caboose from the Blues had found themselves up to their waists in a creek in the middle of a small forest in a canyon almost like Blood Gulch. No one else was with them, so while Caboose played in the water for a bit, Sarge activated his radio.

"Hello, anyone?" he called out. "Do you read me? Do I read you? Anyone? Anybody? Nobody? Okay…" Sarge switched off his radio and turned to Caboose. "Well, I don't think the others are coming. They must have gotten separated somehow."

Caboose just glanced down at his feet. "My toes are getting pruny."

"Ooookay," Sarge muttered, stepping away from Caboose. "Why don't we try to find O'Malley?"

"I know where you can find O'Malley," Caboose said as they waded out of the creek. "He lived inside my helmet for a while; maybe he left an address to send his mail. We were like roommates."

Sarge sighed and shook his head. "Sounds like he took some of the furniture when he left, and the carpet, and the drapes… and I wouldn't expect to get that deposit back, if you know what I mean."

As they neared a large building, Caboose ran on ahead, turned a corner and then skidded to a halt. "Sergeant, look! A sleeping person!"

"What?" Sarge ran forward and gasped in alarm. "Holy macaroon!"

There, lying in a pool of blood on the ground was a Spartan-II soldier in regulation blue armor like Caboose. Sarge stepped up to the soldier, knelt down and felt for a pulse. "He's not sleeping, son… he's dead."

"Oh good," Caboose sighed in relief. "At first, I thought that was me, because I am blue and I like to sleep. But if he is dead, that cannot be me. That would be silly."

Sarge bowed his head sadly. "No doubt he was killed by our _very enemy_. Once again, I find myself torn. On the one hand, there's one less Blue in the Universe, but now Doc's got a _bigger body count than **me**_! And that just won't do, no sir." He stood up and gave a solemn salute to the soldier. "Rest in peace… scumbag."

Caboose just ran around another corner and stopped again. "Look – more sleeping people!"

Sarge came up from behind and stared in silence. All around the field, there were more dead Spartan-IIs, some red like him and some blue like Caboose. He did a quick count and found there was six of each team, making twelve soldiers in total.

"It must be nap time," Caboose said then he looked puzzled. "But who has nap time now? Nap time comes _before_ pants time, not after. I think these people are just making up times."

"What the Samuel Helsinki happened here?" Sarge breathed. "There must have been an enormous battle." He stepped forward, cupped his hands around his helmet filter and called out, "HELLO! Is anyone okay? Are there any survivors; preferably any Red survivors? But don't let that discourage you from speaking up if you're Blue, I won't step on your neck or anything like that!"

"Am I allowed to answer?" Caboose asked.

Just then, a loud trumpeting tune started to play, softly at first but getting steadily louder: _da DA dadela da DA dadedla da DA dadela de DA da da DA dadela da DA dadela da DA dadela da DA_

"Shh quiet," Sarge hissed, hearing the tune. "You hear that?"

Caboose tilted his head to listen but he just heard the creek. "Yes. That noise is called water. It is very wet and very sloshy-"

"I was talking about the trumpet, Bluetard," Sarge muttered as the music continued: _da da da da da DA da, da da da da da da da, da da da da da DA da, da da da da da da_

Caboose then crossed his legs and gave an uncomfortable grimace. "I have to go to the bathroom for some reason… which is odd, because I already went when we were standing in the creek together."

_da DA dadela da DA dadedla da DA dadela de DA da da DA dadela da DA dadela da DA dadela da DAAAAAA_ As the trumpeting came to an end, Sarge's eyes widened in realization. "Wait a minute, I know that song. That's Reveille. But why would someone be playing Reveille in the middle of a-"

"YEEEEAAAAAHHH! WOOHOOOOO!" Suddenly, all of the dead soldiers jumped to their feet and started cheering and shouting.

"Sweet jibbily jiblets!" Sarge yelped in surprise.

"Running time!" Caboose shouted.

At once, the Red and Blue soldiers formed two lines of six and ran off, ignoring Sarge and Caboose as they raced out into the canyon. The Blues ran into the nearby building's front door while the Reds crossed the forest into another building on the other side of the canyon.

Sarge just stared in stunned silence. "What just happened there?"

Caboose turned to look at him. "I think all the sleeping people were trying to ke-"

"That was rhetorical," Sarge cut in.

Hearing shouts from a nearby window, he ran over to it and turned to Caboose. "Get over here and give me a boost!"

"Okay." Caboose stepped up to the Red CO and beamed. "You are a good person, and people say nice things about you."

"Not a morale boost, moron, a physical one," Sarge yelled, smacking the back of Caboose's helmet. "I need to see what's in that window."

Caboose looked up to the window. "That window is very high," he noted. "I don't think you are tall enough."

"_I know_. I need you to help me look through it."

"I don't think I am tall enough either. Also my head is round, that window is square."

"Oh, come here, you." Sarge knelt down by Caboose's legs, took one foot and placed it on his shoulder. Then he slid his hands under the other foot and with a loud grunt, he raised Caboose up to the window.

"Whoa," Caboose yelped as he was lifted up.

"What do you see?" Sarge called up.

Caboose took a gander through the window. "I see… a room."

"And? What's in the room?"

"There are some walls, and some ceilings. Wait- just one ceiling."

"What's making that racket?" Sarge asked as the shouts grew louder.

Caboose looked inside and spotted the Blue soldiers standing around a flag and shouting, "Kill the Reds, kill the Reds, kill the Reds, kill the Reds, kill the Reds!"

Caboose gulped. "You are not going to like it…"

Sarge let the blue Spartan climb down from his shoulders. "Caboose, I have a bad feeling abou-" But then another trumpeting tune echoed across the canyon and Sarge looked round. "What's that?"

His answer came seconds later, as the Base's door slid open and the Blues burst out into the forest yelling, "Chaaaaaarrrrge!" On the other side, the Reds came out in a similar fashion and all hell broke loose!

"Come on, Caboose," Sarge yelled out as guns blazed all around them. "We gotta get to higher ground!"

As they ran off, a nearby Blue soldier blasted his foe with his assault rifle and then took out another clip. "Yeah, I love reloading, I love to reload!"

But then, a Red soldier smashed his fist into the Blue's head, taking him down. "Oh, back of the head!"

As the Blue fell to the ground, he called out with his dying breath, "Tell my girlfriend I love her."

"She's my girlfriend now, bitch!" the Red yelled.

By then, Sarge spotted a nearby ladder and he and Caboose scrambled up to the ledge where they watched the carnage below.

"Sarge, I am scared of our new friends," Caboose whimpered.

"Hot Sonny Bono," Sarge muttered. "What's going on here?"

Just then, a Red soldier ran out of the Blue Base, carrying the blue flag over his shoulder. "Stop fighting, stop fighting," he shouted out. "Everyone, stop fighting!"

The Red and Blue armies stopped shooting and turned round. Sarge and Caboose watched as the Red soldier waved the flag around. "Everyone, everyone look unto me! I possess the Blue flag!"

The Reds gasped in awe. "It's more beautiful than I ever imagined!" one soldier breathed.

"I have seen the top of the mountain!" the Red with the flag shouted, reveling in his new-found zealotry. "And you will worship me as though I were a God!"

Just then, four Blues mobbed around him and took him out WWE-style.

"I regret nothing," the Red Zealot cried out as he died. "I lived as few men dare to dream!"

The other Reds and Blues glanced at each other for a moment then shrugged and continued the slaughter.

One Red soldier smashed his rifle butt into a Blue's head. "Hell, yeah," he cheered but then a sniper round hit him in the head and he collapsed. "Oh no…"

"Head shot!" the Blue sniper crowed before a rocket shot him off his feet. "Oh, you rocket-whore!"

Another Blue soldier took out the Red with the rocket-launcher and then took out another Red by the creek. "Hey, I got some, you want some? I got some for you! Come on, you!"

Then he was taken out by another Red who ran off through the stream yelling, "The only good Blue is a dead Blue! Christ, that water's cold!"

Nearby, a Red and a Blue were standing on opposite sides of a rock and taking in turns to stand up, shoot at the enemy and then take cover again. But after a while, the Blue was hit with a grenade from behind.

"Weak!" the Red yelled at his teammate. "You took my kill!"

"I didn't see your name on it!" the other Red yelled but then he was shot by another Blue hiding behind a rock. "Oh, you fucking camping bitch!"

"It's a legitimate strategy!" the Blue camper yelled out as he ran off. As he stopped by another rock, a shot whizzed past him and he jumped back. "Whoa!"

"Damn," the Red scowled. He then realized that the shooting had stopped around him. "Hey, Blue, we're the only two left! Let's work together!"

"What do you mean?" the Blue camper asked.

"I'm coming out!"

"Okay, I'm coming out too!"

The last two standing met in the middle of the stream. "What did you mean we could work as a team?" the Blue asked.

In response, the Red smashed him in the face with the rifle, taking him out. "I bash you in the head with my rifle and you die," he explained. "Good teamwork, you fucking noob." He then looked round and called out to no one in particular, "Good game, good game, everybody! GG man, GG!" Then he was hit by a stray shot and fell to the ground dead.

As silence fell in the canyon once more, Sarge shook his head in confusion. "I have no earthly idea what it is I just saw, or what this place is, or where in the hell O'Malley is! My only choice is to blame Grif, for coming up with such a flawed plan. Stupid, stupid Grif…"

Caboose looked around the canyon and scratched the top of his helmet. "I am so confused. Where is Church? I need Church to tell me what to think. Church could handle this; he can handle anything!"

At that very moment, Church, the de facto leader of the Blue Team was still trying to figure how to get out of his situation. He and Private Grif from the Reds had woken up in a prison cell on the Red Base on the frozen planet Sidewinder with no weapons, no word from their respective teams and still no sign of Doc/O'Malley.

"Hey, asshole," Church yelled to the warders, rattling the bars of his cell. "For the last time, _LET ME OUTTA THIS GODDAMN JAIL CELL!_"

"Yeah, let him out," Grif agreed. "He's driving me nuts!"

"Oh shut up, Red," Church snapped. "Nobody asked you!"

Grif sighed and shook his head. "I should never have listened to Donut's stupid fucking plan…"

* * *

**So there you have it, the teams are split up and the Reds blame each other. In other words, good start for us all.**


	2. Visiting Old Friends

**It's Episode 40 and our two teams have quite a mountain to climb!**

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Chapter 2: Visiting Old Friends

In the mysterious nexus, Simmons decided to try and find the others, so he got to work on the nearest teleporter, using his new mechanical skills to get a trace on his team.

"Okay, let's see," he murmured, working through a tangle of wires with one hand and tapping on a console with the other. "If I wire this thing into that… maybe I could signal boost on that thing there… I might be able to get that to work."

As he pressed a wire on the component, the teleporter crackled and suddenly a voice called out, "Caboose, Caboose, keep them away from me!"

Simmons looked up and gasped. Through the doorway, he could see a fuzzy image of a great battle. A Red soldier and a Blue soldier were standing back to back, firing their guns at two advancing armies, one Red and one Blue.

"Get that one!" the Red soldier commanded. "And that one! No, no, the one with the limp. Get him!"

Simmons recognized the voice immediately. "Sarge, is that you?"

The Blue soldier meanwhile was firing in every direction, sometimes at the Reds, sometimes in the air and sometimes at the wall. "I don't want to kill… but, I don't want to die anymore!"

"Caboose, can you hear me?" Simmons shouted.

Caboose turned to Sarge. "Yes, I heard you, Sergeant."

"I didn't say anything, numbnuts." Sarge killed off the last enemy then he sighed and turned to the dumb Blue. "Caboose, we have to break this never-ending cycle of attack and retaliation, either by A) convincing the two sides to live in peace, or B) by getting ourselves com_pletely_ involved and _kicking some serious ass_! I vote B."

Simmons chuckled to himself. _That's definitely Sarge…_

"I have a plan, Sergeant," Caboose said. "But we will have to move quickly. Listen…" He stepped up to Sarge and hissed, "_Whisper, whisper, whisper_… Do you think that will work?"

"That's your plan?" Sarge asked confused. "All you said was 'whisper, whisper, whisper'."

"I know," Caboose admitted. "I just wanted to be the one with the plan for once."

Simmons rolled his eyes. _That's Caboose all right…_

Sarge let out a sigh. "Come on, I have an idea."

As Sarge and Caboose ran off, Simmons got back to work on the teleporter with renewed hope. Now that he'd found Sarge, he needed to work quickly if he was to save him and Caboose from that strange place…

Meanwhile, at a complex somewhere else in the galaxy, a Spartan-II in brown armor was on patrol of the grounds outside… and getting more and more pissed off by the second.

"This sucks, man," he murmured as he marched back and forth outside his Base. "I have to do everything around _here_. 'Go guard the wall, Phil'. 'Go paint the jeep, _Phil_'. 'Go do _everything, Phil_'. This sucks."

As he turned, a camouflaged figure jumped out of hiding and landed behind him. Phil started at the soft thuds. "What was that?" He turned round, pistol drawn, but there was no one there.

"Nothing," Phil sighed, holstering his gun. "Just that stupid, sucky _wind_, breaking a twig, coming up behind me and… breathing, real heavy…" Slowly he turned the other direction and jumped at the white armored figure standing behind him. "What the…?"

"Hello, mate," the figure drawled in a thick British accent before punching Phil in the face and knocking him out.

Sometime later, Phil awoke with an aching head, but he found he couldn't move his arms. As his vision cleared, he realized that he'd been tied up by the edge of a cliff. "Oh man, this _sucks,_" he groaned. "What's going on?" He then looked up and saw the white soldier pointing his own gun right at his face. "Uh oh."

"Right, here's the way this works," the soldier explained. "I ask you a question, you tell me an answer. One question, one answer. I don't get the answer I like, we've got a problem. And if we've got a problem, _you've_ got a problem. Is that clear?"

"Okay," Phil whimpered. "Just don't hurt me, I'm a single parent!"

"_Splendid_, that's the attitude, old chap," the white Spartan beamed. "Now, first question: where are you hiding the plans?"

Suddenly, his helmet started ringing to the tune of 'Rule Britannia' and the soldier cleared his throat. "Right, where are you hiding th-" But the ringing was too much. "Right, need to get that. One second…"

He turned round and answered the long-distance radio-phone. "Hello? Yes, this is he speaking… Oh hello! Yes… Right… Oh bugger… Uh, spell that with a T or an F, do you?… No, thought you said something else…"

Phil shuffled uncomfortably behind him. "Getting bored…"

"No, I'll get right on it… Right, usual fee… He won't be a problem. No, I'll nip that one for you straight away… Right, say hello to mum for me. Cheerio…" The soldier hung up and turned back to his prisoner. "Now, where were we? Ah yes… looks like it's your lucky day, mate."

"Oh, thank God!" Phil sighed in relief.

But the soldier raised his borrowed gun again. "I don't have time to torture you, so I'm just going to have to kill you."

Phil gasped in horror. "Wha-Oh, man, this sucks!"

The soldier pulled the trigger and with one shot, Phil was dead. After he dumped the body over the cliff, the soldier cloaked himself again, ran off back to his ship and took off towards the planet Sidewinder where his employer was waiting with a new job for him…

Back at the place now known as Battle Creek, the Reds were motivating themselves for the next great battle.

"Yeah, I'm gonna kill everybody!"

"Get the flag, get the flag, get the flag, get the fucking flag!"

"We must protect this house!"

"We must protect this house!"

"We must protect this house! This is _our_ house!"

Then one soldier, the most poignant of the group, glanced through the door into the flag room. "Um, guys, look, where's our flag?"

The others gasped and gathered in the room, staring at the spot where the flag used to be. "No!" "The flag is gone?" "What will we do?"

"If the flag is gone, who will lead us?" the Red Zealot called out, stepping in front of his team. "Who will inspire us with their shiny pole? Who will flag directions to us in battle? We are lost, and the world as we knew it is gone forever from our eyes, only to live in our memories as the days of salad and glory! Truly these are the end of times! REPENT! REPENT!"

The others stared at him in silence before one of them spoke. "This sucks, I'm leaving."

"Yeah," the others agreed.

So they ran out of the doors, with less enthusiasm than before. At the other Base, the Blues were also feeling low on spirit as they met their opponents in the middle of the canyon… where Sarge and Caboose were waiting.

"Oh, Blue Team," Sarge called down, waving the blue flag. "Look what I have!"

"Oh, Blue Team," Caboose then shouted, holding the red flag. "Look what- wait, I messed up my line. Let's start over."

The two teams looked up and spotted Sarge and Caboose standing on the ledge, waving their flags.

"They have our flag!" a Red soldier yelled.

"No they don't, they have _our_ flag!" a Blue retorted.

"Listen, you morons," Sarge called down. "You're gonna work for us now."

"What's in it for us?" the first Red shouted.

"Help us get out of here, and we'll give you back your flags," Sarge explained. "Then you can go back to senselessly killing yourselves."

"Deal," the Red yelled out. "Ha, sucker!"

"Wait," one of the Blues cried. "Why don't we just kill you guys and take the flags back?"

"Hmm, yeah!" the Red agreed.

With a sigh, Sarge pulled out his pistol and shot the Blue right in the head.

"Oh, you got owned," another Red yelled. "I saw it, fucking owned!"

The Blues then started to shout, "Teams! Teams! Teams!"

"Shut up!" the Reds yelled back. "Teams are fine! Teams are fine! Teams are fine!"

And inevitably, the guns came out and the fighting started… again.

Sarge sighed and tossed the blue flag aside. "Caboose… I give up."

"Wait," Caboose cried, dumping the red flag on the ground. "I can make them listen. I can _beat_ them!"

"Son, what are you talking about?" Sarge asked puzzled.

"O'Malley taught me how to be mean…" Caboose then closed his eyes and placed a hand on the side of his head. "I just have to… _concentrate on bad things_… _like_… _Milk!_ No wait, red… _Red Bull!_"

"Son, I think you've really lost it," Sarge muttered, shaking his head. "O'Malley's not in your head anymore, he infected the Doc!"

"No, I can feel him," Caboose grunted, placing his other hand on his head and gritting his teeth. "I just need to get angry, and say _mean things…_ _like…_ uh… _Your brain is a mountain of hatred!_"

Sarge gave a rueful sigh. "I never thought I'd reach the moment in my life when I actually miss Grif…" He sniffed loudly. "But here it is!"

By then, Caboose was concentrating harder that he'd ever done before. His teeth were clenched so hard it could deflect bullets and his eyes were scrunched up tight. "_Now, I am, thinking about… kittens! _Guh_, kit-tens, covered, in, spikes! That makes me __**ANGRY!**_"

Suddenly his eyes flicked open, revealing glowing red coals of anger, and with a mighty bestial roar, he jumped right off the ledge and landed on the ground with such force it actually cracked underfoot.

Immediately, the two armies stopped fighting and spun round to face this terrifying figure standing amongst them. "**My name is Michael J. Caboose!**" he growled with a face like the darkest storms and a voice like thunder. "**And I hate babies!**"

"It's the Beast!" the Red Zealot screamed in terror. "The Anti-Flag come to live among us and rule us for seven years! The end is nigh!"

But Caboose cut his ranting short as he punched him in the face. Then he took out a Blue then another Red then another Blue then he grabbed the last guy's sniper and started gunning down the others.

Sarge stared at the sight in horror. "Great Gustavo, what's going on down there?"

Just then, a voice called out from behind him. "Sarge, Caboose, can you hear me?"

Sarge turned round to see a ghostly green figure standing before him, but he knew the voice at once. "Simmons 2.0?"

Simmons nodded in confirmation. "I reconfigured the teleporter to allow me to communicate with you. I need to get you guys outta there."

"Damn right we need to get outta here."

Simmons pointed towards the Blue Base. "Get to the teleporter. I'll see what I can do from here."

"Okay!"

"And, Sarge?"

"Yeah?"

Simmons smiled. "It's really great to see you again."

"Oh, kiss my ass some other time," Sarge growled.

"Whatever you say, Sir," Simmons said then he disappeared.

Sarge climbed down the ladder just as Caboose finished off the last soldier and ran towards the Blue Base. "Come on, Caboose, before they wake up again!"

"**I will eat your unhappiness!**" Caboose yelled, setting off after Sarge.

They arrived at the teleporter just as the Reveille started up again. "Hurry up, Simmons," Sarge called out.

"Just give me a _few more_ seconds over here, Sarge," Simmons' voice called through the doorway.

"We don't _have_ a few more seconds!" Sarge bellowed.

"Stop pressuring me!" Simmons cried back with hurt tones. "I rely on you for love and support!"

Caboose meanwhile was still searching for the enemy. "**Your toast has been burned, and no amount of scraping will remove the black parts!**"

"Oh, shut up, Caboose," Sarge snapped.

Behind them, the cheering started again but Simmons then called out, "Okay there, come through now!"

"Come on, Caboose!" Sarge shoved the possessed Blue through the doorway and jumped in after him, seconds before the two armies ran round the corner.

At the nexus, Simmons watched as Caboose stumbled out of the doorway and fell to the floor and Sarge appeared moments later. "Phew," the maroon Spartan sighed. "That was pretty close, huh?"

Sarge turned to him with a patronizing look on his face. "Simmons, you get an F in efficiency…" Then he smiled. "But I have to give you an A+ in dramatic timing."

"Thank you, sir," Simmons replied, rubbing his fist on his armor before glancing at his fingers. "I've always felt that presentation is what matters most."

Just then, Caboose groaned and got to his feet, rubbing his head. "What happened?" he muttered hoarsely. "The _last_ thing I remember was a very mean kitten… and then we were in the janitor's closet, and my throat hurts… a lot."

Simmons glanced through the doorway at the gathered armies. "What was that weird place, Sarge?"

"Simmons, I have absolutely no idea," Sarge replied slowly, leading them away from the teleporter.

Meanwhile, back in Battle Creek, the Reds and Blues glanced around in confusion before they spotted their flags lying discarded on the ground and retrieved them.

"Well, I guess it's back to basics now!" the Reds' leader shouted at their enemies. "Get ready for destruction, Blues! We're gonna kick your ass! We have become _Death, Destroyer of wo-_" He suddenly stopped and looked round. "Oh wait, hold on. I gotta take out the trash. I'll be right back…"

* * *

***sigh* Multiplayers… So one third of the team is reunited, but will they find the others and O'Malley before it's too late? Stay tuned to find out.**


	3. Let's Get Together

**Here's Episode 41 and we continue with the reunion attempt.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Let's Get Together

On an icy precipice at the planet Sidewinder, Doc/O'Malley stood and observed the fields below. Behind him, Lopez stood in stoic silence. O'Malley turned to look at his new lackey. With the unexpected head start he'd gotten on the Reds and the Blues, he was able to reprogram Lopez's loyalty chip as well as a few other alterations and now he was preparing for the next phase of his evil plot.

"**Muahahahahahaaaa!**" O'Malley chuckled evilly. "**Well, my metallic friend, your modifications are complete, and my plan is coming to frution… Frusi- Fru- Fruitition. Fr-**"

"Fruition," Lopez said helpfully. (Fruition.)

"**Oh shut up,**" O'Malley scowled.

"Sí Maestro," Lopez replied. "Su plané es muy excelente." (Yes, Master. Your plan is foolproof.)

"**Now to bring together my enemies!**" O'Malley chortled and he switched on his radio-phone.

Elsewhere in the galaxy, Vic, the radio operator of whichever Command he's working for, was settling down with a nice cup of tea when the phone on his console began to ring. "Oh, dude, come on," he sighed. "You gotta be kidding me."

The screen showed the call was 'Out of Area' so he sat back and let the answering machine get it. "Hey dude, it's Vic. No solo mia, not in the casa right now, so leave a message and I'll call you back. Just leave your what's up at the yo… … Yo."

Then an evil voice called out, "**Vic, pick up. It's me! Muahahahahaaa!**"

Recognizing the voice, Vic sat up and answered the call. "Oh hey, Doctor Baron von Evil Satan, what's up dude?"

"**Don't screen my calls, Vic!**" O'Malley snapped.

"Dude, you don't come up on Caller ID," Vic replied gruffly. "I'm not just gonna answer anything-"

"_**Caller ID?**_" O'Malley cried out. "**I'm in _hiding_, you buffoon! I'm trying to take over the Universe! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!**"

"We're also on the Do Not Call list," Doc added.

"**Oh shut up!**"

Vic giggled at this slight schizophrenic moment. "So how's that evil plot going, dude?"

"**Magnificent,**" O'Malley laughed. "**I've called my bounty hunter in. He'll take care of your little 'Red and Blue' problem post-haste! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!**"

"Oh cool!" Vic raised his voice so he could be heard over the evil AI's laughter. "Thanks for turning that around so quick, dude. I know you're swamped."

"**Then the Universe will be _mine_, and I'll crush every living soul into dust! HAHAHAHAAA!**" O'Malley then cleared his throat and added, "**Except for you, of course, Vic… I'll make you Assistant Crusher.**"

"Okay, dude," Vic muttered in relief, sipping his tea. "Looking forward to that."

Meanwhile in the teleporter nexus, Simmons quickly explained to Sarge and Caboose everything he'd figured out about this place and how he was able to reprogram the teleporter that led to Battle Creek. "…And that brought you back here. So, _theoretically_, one of these teleporters should transport us back to Blood Gulch or anywhere else that we want to go. Do you understand?"

Sarge nodded but Caboose still looked confused. "Yes… No… What does thermoretically mean?"

Simmons sighed and rolled his eyes. "I probably could have saved a lot of time by telling you these things worked by magic."

"I thought you told the story well," Caboose complimented. "I liked all the parts with me in them."

Sarge quickly got back on topic. "Any idea which ones go where?"

"Um, not really," Simmons admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I found you two guys by accident. And I don't want to start using teleporters at random."

Caboose looked around the corridor and made a decision. "We should definitely take the green one."

"Okay, be quiet now," Simmons ordered.

"We've gotta find a way to contact them!" Sarge yelled, slapping his fist in his hand.

Just then, the radio in his helmet crackled. "Come in, Sergeant Dude," a voice called out. "Hello, Sergeant Dude, are you there?"

Sarge activated his radio. "Vic?"

"Got some big news for you, dude," Vic replied.

Meanwhile, back at Blood Gulch, Donut and Tex were able to fix the worst of Tucker's injuries so while Donut stayed with Tucker to help him walk again, Tex made her way back to the Blue Base to retrieve her blue ice diamond ring on a chain from her gravesite. On her way back, she received a message in her helmet and when she read it, her expression turned grim.

She arrived back at the Red Base and called the two guys round. "Bad news, Tucker," she told the slightly limping teal Spartan. "I just picked up a feed. You've been tagged."

"Tagged?" Tucker cried out. "That sounds bad… Unless it means something sexual, does it mean something sexual?"

"It _means_ something bad," Tex replied.

"Oh yeah, like that's a surprise."

"Someone's hired a Freelancer to take you out. Do you have any idea why?"

"I can't say," Tucker replied with a shrug.

Tex walked right up to him. "Keeping secrets? I find that attractive."

Tucker gulped nervously. "You do?!"

"In attractive people, yeah," she replied.

"Do you know who's after him?" Donut asked.

Tex nodded. "This guy I know from training; name's Wyoming."

Tucker burst out laughing. "Finally, a name dumber than Donut!"

"Hey!" the pink private shouted but then he sighed. "Yeah, okay."

"Everybody in the division was paired with an AI and codenamed for a State," Tex explained.

"What was your codename, Tex?" Donut asked curiously.

"Nevada," she replied sarcastically.

"One for each State?" Tucker asked. "So there are fifty of you."

"Forty-nine," Tex corrected. "Remember?"

"Oh yeah, that's right," Tucker muttered. "Man… Poor Florida…" The three Spartans bowed their heads in remembrance of the fallen State then looked up again. "Okay, anyway…"

"Well, I'll make you a deal," Tex bargained. "I still owe you one. So if I take care of Wyoming, we're square, deal?"

Tucker folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "You realize that you wanna protect me from a guy who's trying to kill me. What am I gonna say, no?"

"I'll take that as a yes," she replied.

Back in the nexus, Sarge suddenly had a brilliant idea. "Eureka's hammer, I've got it! I put a listening device in one of the suits of armor I built. We can use that to find out where they are."

"But which one, Sarge?" Simmons asked nervously. "Isn't one a huge bomb?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't turn that on," Sarge chuckled but then he had a thought. "Or maybe I _should_. That way, we could follow the enormous explosion and _huge_ plumes of smoke, directly to them. It'd be like a homing device but Indian style."

"I assume what you mean, sir, is directly to the crater that they left," Simmons pointed out.

"Though crudely delivered, I see your point," Sarge sighed. "Let's go with the listening device."

"Great idea, sir," Simmons replied loyally.

"Yes it was." Sarge then pulled off a small remote from his belt and held it up. The device had two large red buttons on it, one labeled 'Francisco Montague Zanzibar' and the other 'Robot #2'.

"Can I push the button to make it go, please?" Caboose asked in the voice of an eager child.

"Okay, Caboose, but just this once," Sarge replied, pointing to the button with Zanzibar's name on.

"Yay! Thanks," Caboose squealed and pressed the button.

"What a little rascal," Sarge chuckled.

Caboose turned to Simmons with a smile. "I pushed the button."

"Stay away from him, he's mine," Simmons growled through gritted teeth.

Just then, a voice issued through their helmet radios. "Man, I hate this. This sucks."

"It's Church!" Caboose cried out.

"I just wanna lay around and do nothing…"

"I think it's Grif!" Simmons shouted.

"Right after I take this nice, warm bubble-bath."

Sarge and Simmons nodded to each other knowingly. "Donut."

"Let me see if I can lock on to that signal…" Simmons knelt next to the teleporter console and did some quick typing before calling out, "Okay, got it. Go ahead."

Sarge activated his radio. "Come in, Donut, come in. Donut, do you read me? Come in."

"Sarge," Donut called out in relief. "You gotta help me! You left me with one Blue, but now there are three!"

Sarge gasped in horror. "Vic was right; it was a trap all along!" He got back on the radio. "Listen, Donut, Vic told me all about the Blue plot. That fella Tucker is gonna make up things, craaazy things about Red and Blue. You can't listen to him, you just can't!"

Donut gulped in alarm. "Sarge, what should I do?"

"Don't let him catch on that you know," Sarge advised. "Just act like you normally do- Wait, not like you, act like someone more brave, and smarter, and more masculine, for God's sake!"

"Okey-dokey, Sarge," Donut replied and the line went dead.

Sarge sighed and turned to his pet private. "He's a dead man, Simmons."

"It's okay, Sir," Simmons reassured. "I thought that you two were getting too close anyway, and that's not good for the chain of command."

Sarge nodded glumly then perked up again. "Try to open a teleporter to them. I'll see if I can locate the other armor."

With a smile, Caboose snatched the remote from Sarge's hand. "Yeah, more button pushing!"

"Caboose, don't touch that!" Sarge warned.

But Caboose was too pleased to listen. "This is the button to find Church!" he cheered and he slammed his hand down on the 'Robot #2' button.

"Uh oh," Sarge gulped. "That's not gonna be good."

Simmons looked up from his work in alarm. "Did he just do what I think he did?"

Caboose was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Church is going to be so happy with me!"

At that moment, at the Red Base's prison on Sidewinder, the two lone inmates were sitting in silence when Church suddenly gave an all-mighty, earth-shaking belch.

"Nice," Grif chuckled. "I bet I can beat it."

"Uh, whoa," Church grunted, patting his stomach which had suddenly started to tick. "I wonder what caused _that_."

"Hey, Church," Grif muttered worryingly. "Do you know that your stomach is ticking?"

* * *

**Tick tock goes the clock, and the guys are in for it now.**


	4. You're the Bomb, Yo

**It's Episode 42 and the clock is literally ticking for our heroes… And I can hear it from here, it's very annoying!**

* * *

Chapter 4: You're the Bomb, Yo

As the ticking continued in Church's stomach, counting down the minutes before the bomb went off, Grif went into a panic and started rattling the bars of their cell. "Guys, I'm a Red too, I'm a Red!" he yelled out to the impassive salmon-colored guard. "I don't even know this guy. Come on, let me out!"

"Thanks for the support, Grif," Church sighed irritably. "Way to be a team player."

"Hey, I gotta think about myself here," Grif retorted.

"There's no 'I' in team, Grif," Church snapped.

"Yeah, there's no 'U' either," Grif argued. "So I guess if I'm not on the team, and you're not on the team, _nobody's on the God damn team! The team sucks!_" He kicked the bars in anger but only succeeded in hurting his foot.

Church then stepped forward and looked through the bars at their guard. "What I can't figure out is why the Reds are still here. Tex already wiped out the Blues. Why wouldn't they just pull out?"

Grif sighed and sat back on the floor. "As someone who's taken orders from Red Command for the last three years, _trust me_, it's not that surprising."

Meanwhile, back at the nexus, Simmons came back from his work on the teleporter and informed Sarge and Caboose of his progress. "Okay, we traced the bomb activation signal back to Sidewinder. How much time do we have left, Sarge?"

"Everyone here is set to transport," Donut informed them over the radios.

"I'm not going through that thing," Tucker said suspiciously. "I'm serious."

"We need to get there as soon as possible," Sarge replied. "Did you set their teleporter to take them straight to Sidewinder?"

"I walked Donut through it," Simmons answered with an unsure look on his face. "He _says_ he did everything right, but I figure they have a fifty-fifty chance of ending up in Sidewinder or in the middle of deep space."

"What about us?" Sarge asked nervously.

"I programmed ours myself," Simmons reassured. "We're fine."

"I find the risks acceptable," Sarge replied.

Donut then spoke up again. "I never knew a Philips screwdriver was the X one. Do you think it's named after a guy named Philip? That guy Philip must have a fucked-up-shaped head!"

"Yeah, screw this," Tucker groaned. "I'm walking."

"Alright, then saddle up!" Sarge yelled, cocking his shotgun. "Don't worry, Grif and Church, _here comes the cavalry!_" With a great shout, he charged into the teleporter… and popped out of another teleporter behind Simmons and Caboose. "Oh."

"Uh, sir? The teleporter I reprogrammed is over there." Simmons pointed to his left.

"Oh," Sarge muttered sheepishly. "Well, heads up, evil-doers! Here we come to save the- ah, forget it, let's just go." And they set off into the teleporter.

Back at the Reds' prison, unaware of their teams coming to rescue them, Church was pacing around in the cell, trying to think of a way to escape while Grif lay on the floor singing very badly to himself. "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen… Nobody knows but Jesus…"

"Will you shut up?" Church yelled.

Grif sat up indignantly. "You just can't face the fact that I've adjusted to life on the inside! I'm _hard_ now!"

"Please," Church sighed. "Give me a break."

Grif just folded his arms and lay back down. "As the prison bitch, I would _not_ expect you to understand."

Church was about to argue when suddenly the sounds of a great firefight echoed down the passageway. "What's going on out there?"

"Oh man, maybe our crews' come to bust us out of the joint!" Grif cheered, leaping to his feet. "I don't know if I can live on the outside though anymore, Church. I'm all insti_tu_tionalized and shit."

"I don't know," Church muttered, peering through the bars. "Sounds like whoever's fighting them is winning. That can't possibly be our guys."

Grif then turned to the guard standing nearby. "Hey screw, aren't you gonna go help your buddies, oink, oink?"

The guard scowled at Grif and ran down the passage but then he was grabbed in an invisible arm lock and throttled before falling to the ground dead. Then loud footsteps echoed through the passage for a while and then a Spartan-II dressed in armor as white as the driven snow appeared in front of the cell. "Hello, Church," he said in a gruff British accent.

"Wyoming?" Church gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Been hired to do a job on your little friend Tucker," Wyoming explained curtly. "It seems he's discovered some information that someone else isn't happy about."

"Who's this cracker?" Grif asked.

"Oh, he's just some scumbag bounty hunter that was in the same division as Tex," Church replied crossly.

"Ah yes, dear Tex," Wyoming chuckled, rubbing his chin in the manner of a movie villain. "After I take care of your little friend Tucker, I'll be taking care of _her_ as well."

Church scowled and clenched his fists tightly on the bars. "When I get out of here-"

"But you won't," Wyoming cut off. "Everyone here is dead now. No one even knows where you are. So I suppose now you'll just have to starve to death. Cheerio." And he walked out of the passageway with a deep hearted chortle.

"We gotta find a way to escape, Grif," Church said urgently.

Grif nodded. "If only we had bed sheets…"

"There's no window," Church pointed out. "What good is tying together bed sheets gonna do us?"

"Who said anything about tying them together?" Grif asked puzzled. "I wanna take a nap. If I have to die of hunger, I wanna do it in my sleep."

Church sighed and looked out through the empty passage, hoping to God that his team would come.

At that moment, at the Red Base in Blood Gulch, Donut had received word that Sarge, Simmons and Caboose had arrived safely at Sidewinder and now he, Tucker and Tex were preparing to go through the teleporter to join them.

"Good luck, everyone, take care," Sheila called up to them. "I packed you all lunches for the trip."

"Thanks, Sheila," Tucker said kindly. "That was really nice of you."

"Not really," Donut muttered, holding up a small component. "All _my_ bag had was an air filter and a thermos full of brake fluid."

As Tex jumped into the teleporter, Sheila said her goodbyes. "Make sure to wash your exhaust pipes every day."

"Bye, Sheila," Tucker called out as Donut ran in. "We'll come back for you soon."

"I'll be waiting," Sheila promised as Tucker followed the others.

In the abandoned Blue Base on Sidewinder, Sarge, Caboose and Simmons stood by the teleporter receptacle, waiting for the others. Just then, the receptacle began to flash. "Okay, here they come," Simmons called out.

First to emerge was Tex who quickly ran outside without a word. She was closely followed by Donut who looked very pleased with himself. "Yeah-ha, I knew I could fix a teleporter. I guess these hands aren't just for manicuring after all. Ha-ha!"

Finally, a Spartan covered in black ash emerged from the teleporter. "OWWWW! Crap!"

Simmons stared in confusion. "What's all that black stuff on your armor?"

The blackened Tucker stared at himself then at Donut. "Just me? What the fuck?"

Caboose ran up and hugged his teammate, getting black stuff on himself in the process. "Tucker, I am so glad to see you!" He then pulled out his cleaning chamois. "Here, let me help you clean your armor off, by rubbing you all over."

Tucker nodded gratefully and they stepped outside.

"Ooh, ooh, let me help," Donut offered, running after them.

"Absolutely, Admiral Buttercrust," Caboose replied.

On a cliff overlooking the Blue Base, Wyoming peered through his sniper scope and spotted Tucker as he ran outside, followed by Caboose and Donut. "Hmmm, I don't see him," he muttered, failing to recognize Tucker in his blackened armor. "Perhaps they've disguised him somehow… well played."

Down below, Tex looked up, spotted the white bounty hunter and smiled to herself. "Gotcha…"

Simmons meanwhile turned to his CO. "So what's the plan, Sarge?"

"First we need to locate Church and get that bomb defused," Sarge replied. "Then we can find Lopez, download our plans, and get back to fighting the Blues."

"And find Grif," Simmons added.

"What?"

"And we also need to find Grif, right sir?"

Sarge gave a begrudging moan. "Well, not every plan is perfect, so… I suppose we could accidentally find Grif along the way."

Back in the jail, Church turned to Grif and gave a nervous smile. "Okay, Grif, I've been putting something off that I can do to help us escape, but I gotta warn you, it might scare you a bit."

"You want scary, you should try showering in Cellblock C," Grif said, giving a shudder and an uncomfortable shrug of his shoulders. "Those guys are animals."

"Alright, here goes…" But as Church was speaking, the bars of their cell suddenly rose up into the ceiling, opening the way out.

Grif stared in disbelief. "You opened the doors? That wasn't scary at all."

"What? I didn't do that. Somebody on the outside must have done it." Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Church ran out off the cell, grabbed his assault rifle and tossed the dead guard's pistol over to Grif. "Alright, let's go!"

"Freedom, it smells so sweet!" Grif cheered as they ran out of the Base. "Let's go rob a liquor store on the way home."

Meanwhile, Caboose and Donut had just finished wiping Tucker's armor down. "There, you're all clean," Caboose declared.

"Thanks," Tucker replied gratefully then he glowered at the pink private. "But you didn't need to spend so much time on the codpiece, Donut."

Donut just smiled as he put away his jar of polish. "A three-coat waxing is just my way of saying I care."

Up on the cliffs, Wyoming let out a smile as the clean Tucker stepped away from the others. "Well, there we are, mate," he purred, setting his sights on the teal Spartan's head.

"Hello, Wyoming," a cold female voice called out behind him. Wyoming turned to see Tex standing behind him, aiming her assault rifle at point blank range. "Why don't you stop pointing that gun at my friend?"

"Allison, good to see you," Wyoming cried as if he was greeting an old friend. "How's our good friend, Omega?"

"You tell me," Tex snapped. "He hired you, didn't he?"

Wyoming raised an eyebrow indifferently. "Now how did you know that?"

"When someone lives in your head for a few years, you get to know him," Tex replied, tapping the side of her temple. "Now where is he?"

Wyoming let out a grin. "Oh he'll be along shortly…" Just then, Tex heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked right behind to her head. "Very shortly."

Tex whirled round and saw the possessed, red-eyed Doc pointing his shotgun right at her head. "Oh crap," she groaned, dropping her weapon.

O'Malley smirked and let out a sinister laugh. "**Only now do you realize the folly of your idle chit-chat! EVIL WINS! Hahahahahaaaa! Good sucks an egg!**"

As Wyoming grabbed Tex from behind, Doc suddenly took control again for a brief moment, "I'm really sorry about this, sir- I mean ma'am- I mean miss!" before O'Malley came back. "**Oh shut up!**"

* * *

**Oh dear, just when things were looking up…**


	5. Make your Time

**And now it's Episode 43, the moment when everything will change for the Reds and the Blues.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Make your Time

As the Red and Blue teams made their way across the snowy fields towards the Red Base, a sudden sinister laughter brought them to a stop. They looked up to see Doc/O'Malley and Lopez standing on a cliff.

"**HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!**" O'Malley's voice called out. "**You fools have fallen _right_ into my trap! Only now do you realize the _folly_ of your follies! Prepare for an oblivion, for which there is **_**no preparation**_**! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!**"

At once, the two armies raised their weapons and pointed them up to the possessed medic. "O'Malley, the Reds and Blues are working together now!" Simmons called up. "You can't hope to beat us!"

"**You fool!**" O'Malley retorted. "**My metallic friend is the only ally I need. Lopez, activate weather control routines!**"

"Okay," Lopez replied, slowly raising his arms. Just then, his body began to glow and two beams of light shot out from his hands into the sky. Lightning flashed from the robot as the clouds rolled in and he was surrounded by strange mystic runes.

Simmons gasped in amazement. "Are those runic symbols a sign of some ancient technology?"

"No, I used to draw them in my binder during study hall," Doc called out. "I _always_ wanted to use them for something. Aren't they cool?"

"**Shut up!**" O'Malley snapped.

"Oh, Sampson's back hair, they found our secret weapon!" Sarge cried out. As the wind began to pick up, he quickly explained to Tucker and Caboose, "I developed a weather control device, but I was missing one _critical_ piece of technology to make it work."

"**Hahaha, yes,**" O'Malley chuckled. "**And now that I've located those 'D' batteries, **_**the Universe will be mine! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!**_"

"Are you serious?" Tucker cried out in disbelief. "You couldn't find D batteries."

"Only at gas stations," Sarge replied sheepishly. "And they're just so darn expensive there."

Just then, a loud ticking faded in and everyone turned to see Church running up, a look of worry on his face. "What's going on?"

"You want the long version or the short?" Sarge asked. "Basically, you've got a fifty megaton bomb in your gut-"

"Ten, sir," Simmons corrected.

"And Lopez is about to kill us all," Sarge finished.

"That didn't make any sense," Church said, scratching his head in confusion. "What's the long version?"

"That was the long version," Tucker yelled. "The short version is 'we're _boned!_'"

As lightning flashed across the sky, Grif arrived and Simmons went to join his puffing orange teammate. "Hey, Grif, are you okay?"

"I've done hard time, Simmons," Grif panted. "I'm not the man you used to know."

Simmons looked puzzled. "Hard time? We were only separated for five hours."

"Time moves slower on the inside, Simmons," Grif explained. "It seemed like seven or _eight_ hours to me."

Suddenly, a rocket shot over their heads and hit the ground behind them, making the teams scatter in all directions.

"**You foolish fools will _never_ defeat me!**" O'Malley jeered, hefting the rocket launcher. "**You're far too busy being foolish! HAHAHAHAAA! Oblivion is at hand!**"

As O'Malley kept firing the rocket launcher, the two teams hurried for some nearby cover. Caboose and Donut ran for the safety of a fallen tree, Tucker and Church dived behind a nearby snowdrift and Sarge and Grif dashed towards a rock. Meanwhile Simmons scurried across the field, back the way they'd come. "Sarge, I have an idea, but I need you to distract him!"

"Will do!" Sarge called out then he turned to the orange soldier next to him. "Grif, I _never_ believed in you, not even for a moment, but now is your chance to prove yourself… to me."

"What can I do, Sarge?" Grif asked eagerly.

"I need you to run _right_ at O'Malley-"

"And shank him with my shiv?"

"No. When he blows you up with the rocket, try to see if you can get your dismembered limbs and guts to clog the barrels of his rocket launcher."

Grif stared in horror. "You're kidding."

"It's a remote chance, I know," Sarge agreed. "But it's worth a shot."

But then O'Malley leapt off the cliffs and landed right behind Sarge and Grif. "**OOOOOOBLIVION IS AT HAND! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!**"

As the two Reds whirled round, O'Malley raised his rocket launcher at them. "Cover your ears, guys," Doc's voice called out. "This thing is _really_ loud!"

"This is it!" Grif grabbed his CO tight and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the end.

"Not so fast, O'Malley!" Simmons' voice called out. The possessed medic turned round to see the maroon Spartan standing in the middle of the field, a remote control in his hand. "Maybe we can't stop you, but I know who can!"

Simmons pressed the button on the remote and a glowing green doorway appeared next to him. Seconds later, the two Battle Creek armies came charging through it, cheering and shouting. "Alright, new level, yeah! Woohooo!"

"Hey, guys!" Simmons called out, attracting their attention. "You want your flag? He's the one that has it!" He pointed to O'Malley who gulped in alarm.

"The crusade has begun!" the Red Zealot yelled out. "Our hour of glory is at hand! Let all who would stand against us be washed in our divine light!"

As the two armies charged forward whooping and firing their weapons, O'Malley dropped his rocket launcher and ran for his life. "**Get away from me! No! Get out! OWWW!**"

Simmons ran up to Sarge and Grif and grabbed the rocket launcher. "We need to disarm Church's bomb, Sarge."

"Right," Sarge agreed.

But as they, Caboose and Donut ran towards Church and Tucker's hiding place, a bolt of lightning shot out of Lopez's body and struck the Blue leader right in the crotch. "YAAAHAHAHAOOOOWWW!"

Just then Sarge and the others ran up to him. "Hold still, son, this'll just take a second."

He knelt down and carefully prized off Church's codpiece, making the Blue leader sigh in dismay. "Don't you ever install anything _above_ the waist?"

Once the codpiece was off, Sarge located the timer of the bomb which showed they had just sixty seconds left and he quickly hit the off button… and then again… but nothing happened. "Oh no!" he yelled, jumping to his feet in horror. "That _last_ lightning bolt fused the detonator! There's no way to turn this thing off!"

"Can't you do it manually?" Simmons asked.

"Impossible," Sarge replied. "I specifically designed it so that _I_ wouldn't be able to defuse it."

"Why?" Grif cried out.

"In case I fell in to the wrong hands, and was _brainwashed_ to help the Blues," Sarge explained.

"Nice thinking, sir," Simmons said loyally.

Grif just scowled at him. "You had to get just one last ass-kiss in before we die, didn't you?"

**(A.N.: I regret to announce that the preceding scene showing O'Malley getting teabagged by the Battle Creek soldiers has been cut out due to my complete and utter disgust at it. Blame me all you want, but I just can't bear the thought of typing it in my story. Actually now that I think about, I don't actually regret it at all, so there.)**

Tucker snatched the rocket launcher from Simmons' hands and pointed it at his leader. "Church, there's only one thing I can do."

"Hey, what the hell?" Church cried out, taking a step back.

"There's only twenty seconds left!" Simmons yelled.

"If I blow you up _before_ the bomb goes off, there's at least a small chance the _rest_ of us will live," Tucker explained.

"But the rocket will kill me!" Church shouted.

"Ten seconds!"

"You're gonna die _anyway_ when the bomb goes off!" Grif screamed.

Church just shrugged. "What can I tell you, pal? Misery loves company."

"Five seconds!"

Tucker sighed as he loaded the rocket launcher and pointed it at his teammate. "Sorry, Church."

"Man this blows," Church scowled. "You guys suck."

Suddenly, a shot rang out and the rocket launcher was ripped right out of Tucker's hands. "What the hell?"

Everybody looked up to see Wyoming standing on an icy peak, holding a smoking sniper rifle in his hands. "Sorry, Private Tucker, but I _always_ get my man." He pointed his gun at Tucker's head. "Say goodbye, mate."

Just then, a loud bleeping noise rang out and Simmons gulped in alarm. "Uh guys, I hate to interrupt but… zero seconds."

All eyes turned to Church as the bleeping grew louder, faster and higher in pitch. "Uh oh," Tucker murmured.

"What?" Church asked before he felt a strange grumbling feeling in his stomach. "Oh, son of a-"

KABOOOOOOOOMMMMM! The explosion that followed shot out across the Halo ring world and out into the depths of space.

As the light faded, Tucker suddenly found himself in a strange glowing tunnel and he saw the others flying alongside him.

"What the…?" Simmons muttered.

"The bomb must have gone off," Sarge guessed.

Grif looked around in confusion. "Where are we? Are we dead?"

"I don't want to be dead!" Caboose called out. "I want to be alive, or a cowboy."

"Dead? Oh man," Donut cried. "Tomorrow was all you can eat day at the chow hall, and I wanted to eat all I could."

"We're not dead, idiots," Sarge yelled. "We're stuck in some kind of temporal… whoa no! Heads up boys, prepare for impact!"

Then Tucker felt himself falling through space before he hit the ground and knew nothing more…

* * *

**And thus ends the Halo 1 part of this series. From here on in, most of the rest of this series will be run on the Halo 2 engine with cooler new looks (that you won't be able to see in my story, but take my word for it, it looks cool). Let's continue…**

* * *

With a loud groan, Tucker slowly opened his eyes, and just by looking at the sky, he knew he wasn't in Sidewinder, Blood Gulch or even Kansas. The clouds were a bruised red and the sun was a darker yellow than the one over Blood Gulch. "Ohhhhh, what happened?"

Just then, a figure in polished pink armor appeared in his blurred vision. "Hey, he's awake," he cried out in Donut's voice.

Then Tucker heard Grif's and Simmons' voices arguing nearby. "I _still_ wanna know why _I_ don't get a laser gun," Grif muttered.

"Shut up, dumbass," Simmons retorted.

"Guys, Tucker's awake," Donut called out.

"Huh?" Simmons came forward, wearing glossy maroon armor. "Hey, hey, hey, take it easy, Tucker. You've been out for a while."

"And I thought _I_ was lazy," Grif muttered as his shiny orange-helmeted face looked down.

Slowly, Tucker sat up and stared at the gathered figures. "W-W-What's going on? Who are you people?"

Donut gasped in alarm. "He has amnesia! Tucker, don't worry, you are safe. We're the Reds; we are your mortal enemies… Wait, _that_ didn't sound right."

Just then, a burnished blue-armored figure ran up and grabbed the teal Spartan in a hug. "Tucker, Tucker! I am so _glad_ you are alive."

Tucker pulled out of the hug and stared at the figure. "Caboose? Still so dumb, but you look so different."

"We're in the future," Caboose cried out, holding his arms out. "Things are very shiny here."

"The future?" Tucker rubbed his aching head and then he noticed the teal armor was as bright and glistening as the others'. "Oh, I can't fucking wait to hear this one."

At that moment, Sarge came round the corner, his red armor not quite as shiny as the others and covered in dents and scratches. "Obviously Lopez's weather matrix combined with the power of bomb 21 to create an explosion so large, it caused a temporal rift in time, that cascaded throughout the blo-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second, wait a second," Tucker interrupted as his head started to hurt. "I don't understand."

"Sarge, can we do the skit now?" Donut cried out eagerly.

"Yeah!" Caboose cheered.

"Yes," Simmons agreed.

Grif shook his head. "I don't wanna do that dumb skit."

"Fine," Sarge sighed. "But only because I wanna see Grif be miserable… I miss the old days."

"Great!" Donut cried out. "Places everyone!"

As Tucker watched the others run towards a nearby rocky clearing, Donut cleared his throat and spoke in a deep voice. "The Red vs. Blue Players present: A Franklin Donut play. Written and directed by Franklin Donut, in association with Light Red Danish Productions."

"Can we just start?" Sarge yelled impatiently.

Tucker turned towards the clearing as Sarge, Grif and Simmons stood in a row and Caboose stood some distance away. Donut then gave them the cue. "Annnnd, _action!_"

"Hello, weary traveler," Simmons said calmly. "We represent the timeline."

Sarge stepped forwards. "I am the past, where things cost less and people knew the value of a hard day's work, but they only lived to be twenty-eight years old."

Simmons then came forward. "And I am the future, where people have no morals and no emotions, but we have a bunch of kickass gadgets!"

"And I'm the present which sucks," Grif said sulkily. "We have nothing cool and also no morals."

"And I am the helpful narrator," Donut added. "A faceless voice used by poor writers."

"You have a face… I think," Tucker muttered.

"Shut up, audience, you're ruining my play," Donut snapped before retaining decorum. "Everything was fine in the timeline, until one day, in the present…"

"Why does bad stuff always happen in the present?" Grif asked.

"Because that when people _do_ stuff," Donut growled.

"Ah, quit your bitching," Sarge cut in. "I have atrocities and a crapload of wars that seemed very important at the time, but now seem trivial and stupid."

"Yeah, and I've got apocalypse," Simmons agreed. "That's _way_ worse than anything you two dipshits have." He became aware of Sarge glowering at him and hastily added, "Sorry, Sir. That 'dipshit' was in character."

"Oh," Sarge realized. "Well, bravo, Simmons."

Donut continued his narration. "One day, in the present, a terrible thing happened."

Caboose then walked onto the stage. "Enter Stage Left," he said before taking a bow. "Hello, I am stupid Private Tucker. I am going to set off a big bomb now, _and totally mess things up for everyone_, because I am stupid." He then turned to face Grif. "Turns around... Hello, present. I am going to set off a bomb in you."

"Don't do that, stupid Private Tucker," Grif cried out. "That might kill me."

Caboose looked thoughtful. "Thinks about this for a moment…"

"Caboose, stop reading your stage directions," Donut yelled out.

Caboose turned to glare at Donut. "You told me I was supposed to read anything with my name in front of it."

"Just the lines, not the blocking," Donut argued. "You're ruining my big debut!"

"I do not think we are meshing artistically," Caboose retorted, folding his arms. "I think you should talk to my agent."

"This is stupid," Grif shouted, storming off the stage. "I quit."

"You _can't_ quit," Donut yelled. "End scene! This has been a Franklin Donut joint."

With the skit over, Sarge stepped forward and helped Tucker get to his feet. "Listen, son," he explained in simple terms. "You and your buddy Church set off a bomb which, when combined with the weather machinery in Lopez, made an explosion _so large_ it destroyed the present."

"Destroyed the present…" Tucker couldn't believe his ears. "Then where are we?"

"We're in the future, numbnuts," Simmons replied angrily.

"Aren't we in the present right now?" Tucker asked. "Aren't we always in the present?"

"Unbelievable," Simmons sighed. "He can't cope with the loss. He's in denial."

"That is so sad," Grif muttered, shaking his head.

"Son, you're just not listening," Sarge reasoned. "The present has been destroyed. It no longer exists. We are in the future."

"AHHHHH! It makes no sense!" Tucker yelled, grabbing his pounding head.

"I'm currently working on a short film to explain it," Donut said helpfully. "Tom Cruise has the script, and I hear he's _verrry_ interested."

Tucker shook his head in disbelief. "You're telling me a bomb sent us into the future."

"Yeah," Simmons replied. "You see, luckily Church was facing forward when the bomb went off, and we were standing in front of him. So that sent us forward into the future."

"Of _course_ he was facing forward," Tucker scowled. "What other way can people face?"

"You see?" Simmons exclaimed. "That's what I meant by luckily."

Tucker then realized that someone was missing. "What happened to Church?"

"Hmm," Sarge muttered. "Never really thought about him."

"Yeah, weird," Simmons agreed, scratching the top of his helmet. "I-I guess he's dead."

"Sounds good to me," Sarge nodded. "Let's go with that."

But Tucker wouldn't allow it. "He could be hurt and trapped in the present."

"That's impossible, son," Sarge argued. "The _present_ doesn't exist anymore. What you're proposing just isn't very good science."

Tucker then had a horrible thought. "Don't you see? If Church was facing forward during the explosion, and that blew us into the future, that could mean that he was blown backwards into the…" He let out a gasp. "_Oh no!_"

"Backwards into what?" Sarge asked. "A wall? A broom closet?"

"A big rock?" Grif added.

"Another big rock?" Caboose put in.

"No!" Tucker yelled. "Into the past!"

At that moment, nearly two thousand years ago, Church was slowly coming to. He sat up carefully and rubbed his head. "What the hell…?" he muttered. Then he opened his eyes and found himself sitting by the edge of a huge, retro-looking complex and no one else in sight. As he stood up, he discovered that his cobalt blue armor was looking very retro too and he glanced around in complete confusion. "Where the hell am _I_?"

* * *

**And there we go… A new look for all our heroes and a new engine to run on.**


	6. We Must Rebuild

**Here's Episode 44! Did the new looks grow on you yet?**

* * *

Chapter 6: We Must Rebuild

Since no one had any idea where, and _when_, they had landed, the Red and Blue teams split up to search for any signs of life, human or otherwise. Sarge, Caboose and Donut set off towards some mountains and Tucker, Grif and Simmons explored the rocky fields.

After a few minutes of exploring and finding nothing and nobody, Grif stopped, fell to his knees and shook his head sadly. "They destroyed it all, Simmons. Those damn stupid bastards; they blew it all up!" He bent over and slammed his fist into the dirt. "Damn them! Damn them to Hell! _Those damn dirty apes!_"

"Calm down, Grif," Simmons said. "We don't know that the whole world is like this."

"Yes it is," Grif sighed, getting back to his feet. "They destroyed it all. I guess the society of men just wasn't meant to survive."

Simmons rolled his eyes. "Hey, how about this: How about we explore more than two square miles before we jump to conclusions."

"It was definitely nuclear weapons, that's what did it," Grif muttered, not really listening to Simmons. "And the explosions caused massive power outages which caused the failsafe to fail, which released a super-bacteria from a secret lab."

"Oh come on," Simmons sighed.

"That caused a huge plague, and as the victims died, they rose from the dead twelve hours later to roam the Earth and feast on human flesh."

"What?"

"A handful of gritty survivors from all walks of life were able to _keep_ the legions of the infected radioactive undead at bay, using only their wit and an inexplicable comprehension of agricultural science and engineering. Everything was looking good… and _that's_ when the meteor hit!"

Simmons sighed and slapped his hand to his visor. "I think you just quoted every crappy Hollywood apocalypse movie _ever_."

"Naw, Hollywood doesn't under_stand_ apocalypse," Tucker argued. "They think that just _one thing_ from everyday life goes away and that changes everything; like in Road Warrior it was gas, and in Waterworld it was land."

"What went away in The Matrix?" Simmons asked.

"Sunlight," Tucker replied.

"I thought the missing element was plot," Grif murmured, scratching his head in confusion.

"I'm talking about Matrix _1_," Tucker said.

"Oh right," Simmons muttered.

Grif looked towards the burning horizon and sighed. "Face it Simmons, the age of man is done."

Simmons pondered over Grif's story of the apocalypse. "If all that happened, then where are the zombies? Why aren't _they_ still around?"

"The meteor killed them," Grif replied as if it was obvious.

"And what about the super-bacteria?"

"It was infected by _alien_ bacteria brought by the meteor and was wiped out in a massive bacteria on bacteria plague." Grif sighed and shook his head. "Very ironic…"

"Okay, then why haven't _we_ been infected by the new alien bacteria?"

"It only infects _other bacteria_. Are you even listening to me?"

Tucker listened to this conversation with growing puzzlement. "Do you guys ever get anything done, or do you just stand around and talk all day?"

"We don't get paid enough to do stuff," Grif muttered regrettably.

"But what about Church, idiot?" Tucker cried. "How're we gonna get him from the past to the future?"

"I guess he can just wait," Grif replied with a shrug. "That's how it usually works."

"But when he gets to the present, he'll just be destroyed like everything else," Tucker pointed out.

"Well, he'll just have to fix it on his own then," Simmons replied.

"And if he's successful," Grif added, "he'll get to live through the coolest apocalypse of all time!"

Just then, Sarge's voice came through their radio headsets. "Simmons, Grif, get yer keisters over here!"

Simmons, Grif and Tucker ran back across the fields. They found Sarge waiting by a small gully and in the gully, Caboose and Donut were standing next to a large vehicle that looked very similar to the Warthog they'd left in Blood Gulch.

"Look what I found!" Caboose called up as the others approached.

"I found it!" Donut yelled angrily.

"Look at what I took credit for finding," Caboose corrected.

"A-mazing that these two actually accomplished something," Sarge muttered to himself.

Grif clambered down into the gully to have a look. "It looks like some kind of an alien transport mechanism that could be used to-"

"Or it's a jeep," Simmons interrupted.

"You have no imagination," Grif muttered.

Sarge was next to climb into the ditch and he looked over the vehicle before lifting open the bonnet. "Hmmm, let me see if I can get this thing working…"

"How?" Simmons asked puzzled. "There's no parts, and what're you gonna use for fuel?"

Sarge sighed in pity. "Grif was right, Simmons. You don't have _any_ imagination."

"Thank you sir," Grif replied.

"Shut up, scumbag," Sarge snapped. "We're not having a moment."

"Hey, we need to find Church," Tucker reminded everyone.

"He's _dead_, son," Sarge called back. "Why haven't you given up hope yet and just moved on?"

"It's only been a couple of hours," Tucker retorted.

Sarge looked up at the teal soldier. "Well, this should make you feel better. When his body was blasted into smithereens, at least he took all our enemies with him."

But little did Sarge know that, some distance away on a small beach, their enemies were still very much alive. Under a sign warning people not to swim here, a brown helmet with a cracked visor lay in the sand. To the casual observer, it looked like the helmet had just been abandoned on the beach by a thoughtless Spartan… until they heard it speak.

"Peligro… Error, error," Lopez moaned as his power gradually faded. "Peligro… Error, error… No puedo tocar mi cuerpo…" (Warning… Error, error… Warning… Error, error… I cannot feel my booodyyyyy…)

As Lopez finally switched off, a polished purple-armored figure approached, his face in a grimace and his eyes glowing red. "**Hahahahaaaa! Don't worry, my metallic friend,**" O'Malley ensured his lackey, lifting him out of the sand. "**You'll be up and about in _no_ time! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-uh-heh. Hahahahahaha…**" He broke off with a cough and then finished, "**Ha-ha-hah!**"

* * *

**Oy, this villains never know when to stop.**


	7. New Toys

**Here we are again with Episode 45 and still no sign of action… for now.**

* * *

Chapter 7: New Toys

In the gully out in No-Man's Land, the Reds and Blues got to work on fixing the Warthog Mk 2 (the name was decided after another quick argument that Sarge and his shotgun hastily settled), all except for Caboose who had gone off somewhere for his daily nap. Grif climbed into the driver's seat to wait for the go, and Sarge was now working on the underside of the jeep, with Donut giving him some assistance.

"Donut, hold the light there," Sarge ordered, wrenching the nuts on the jeep's drive shaft.

Donut nodded and pointed the torch at Sarge. "No, not on me, on _that_," the Red CO shouted. "Why would I need the light on my face?"

Donut then started pointing at different components. "Hey Sarge, what's that metal thing that looks like a bunny? Ooh, ooh, and what's that other metal thing that looks like a soup can?"

"Don't touch _anything_, Donut!" Sarge snapped, slapping the pink private's hand away. Then he tightened the nuts just a little bit more. "Okay, fellas, I think I got it. Give her a crank!" But no one responded. "Guys? Hey, what in tarnation are you knuckleheads doing up there?"

What they were doing was having yet _another_ argument. "No," Simmons said crossly, folding his arms. "I _don't_ think getting new rims for the jeep's a good idea."

"Oh come on!" Grif protested. "If we all kick in, we can get some spinners, some kickass subs, _hydraulics!_"

"I'm in," Tucker cried out eagerly.

"Why?" Simmons asked.

"Um, for style?" Grif replied as if it was obvious.

"For chicks," Tucker added.

"What chicks?" Simmons shouted. "There's no one for miles. We don't even know if anyone's still alive!"

"What, suddenly you're a pessimist?" Grif scowled.

"Yeah, but if we _do_ find some women," Tucker pointed out, "we will literally be the last men on Earth for them."

"He's right," Grif agreed.

"All my life, I've had girls tell me, 'not if you were the last man on Earth'." Tucker then chuckled to himself. "Well, that may be true, but let's see what happens when I'm the last man on Earth with a sweetass pimped-out ride, bitch!"

Sarge pulled himself out from under the Warthog and stood up with a glare. "If you ladies are through gossiping, I could use some help fixing our vehicle!"

"Oh yeah, right, here, let me try." Grif turned on the engine then drove the jeep forward a few feet before it stopped with a grind from the engine… and a loud scream of pain from Donut. "Yah-ha-OOOOOUOUOOOWWWW!"

"Donut, are you okay?" Sarge shouted, kneeling next to the jeep.

"I was just petting the bunny," Donut whimpered. "And then it went into the soup can… and part of my hand went with it!"

As Sarge grumbled in annoyance and crawled back under the vehicle, Tucker looked up wistfully. "Mmmm, bunny and hand soup… just like Mom used to make."

Sarge let out a growl of anger as he saw Donut lying under the jeep, tears in his eyes and three of his fingers trapped in the muffler. "Donut, I told you not to touch anything. You touched _everything!_ That's the exact opposite of touching nothing!"

As Sarge struggled to pull Donut's fingers out, Simmons began to climb into the Warthog's passenger seat next to Grif who looked round in dismay. "Hey, what're you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Simmons replied. "I'm getting in the jeep."

"What are we, on a date?" Grif scowled, pushing his teammate away. "Get in the back."

"Oh, you're so insecure," Simmons muttered angrily, jumping back down.

"Will you two shut up?" Sarge shouted as he got to his feet again. "We need to get this thing fixed."

"I feel dizzy, Sarge," Donut moaned, clutching his broken fingers as he lay on the ground.

"Oh, that's just blood loss," Sarge replied dismissively. "You'll make some new blood; you just need some orange juice."

"What's the rush on getting this thing fixed, anyway?" Tucker asked puzzled.

"Listen, dirtbag," Sarge yelled, poking his finger on Tucker's chest. "I know on Blue Team, you like to lollygag a bit-"

"There _is_ no Blue Team," Tucker interrupted, pushing Sarge's hand away. "It's all a lie. Red and Blue are the same."

"Oh, don't start that crap again," Grif whined.

"You sound like a conspiracy nut when you talk about that stuff," Simmons agreed then he started speaking in a sarcastic monotone. "The government put a chip in my brain!"

"The President can hear my thoughts!" Grif added in a similar fashion.

"We never landed on the sun!" Donut whimpered while acting sarcastic.

Grif then gave a mocking gasp. "They put fluoride in my water!"

"Actually, that one's true," Simmons corrected.

"It is?" Grif looked stunned. "No wonder I listen to so much pop music."

Sarge quickly roped Tucker's question back on topic. "We're fixing the jeep because we need to be prepared, just as our enemies are no doubt preparing to attack us at this moment."

"But you guys think _I'm_ your enemy," Tucker reminded them. "And I'm not preparing to do anything… 'cept get L-A-I-D." He glanced at the silent looks on the Reds' faces and added, "Laid."

"Yeah, we can spell," Grif sighed, rolling his eyes. "We just think that was fucking weak."

Some distance away, Doc/O'Malley had managed to repair Lopez's head as best he could then they'd discovered a large complex further down the beach and were now exploring the rusted hallways.

"**Hahahaha, yes,**" O'Malley chortled, standing next to a window. "**This place will do nicely for an evil lair. It's diabolically designed!**"

"As a student of feng-shui, I can tell you that this house is 88% good luck," Doc's voice said from his reflection. "Also, very breezy… and I like the floor plan."

"**Quiet, you fool!**" O'Malley snapped.

"Nomás quiero un cuarto solo para mí," Lopez grumbled from under O'Malley's arm. "No me gusto compartir con el vacío." (I just want my own room. I hate sharing with the vacuum.)

O'Malley trudged further down the halls. "**Hello,** **is anyone home? Don't be alarmed, we're only here to KILL YOU and take all your possessions!**" He stopped by another window and waited for a response and when none came, he laughed, "**Excellent! No doubt our very presence has scared everyone away! Muahahahahaaa!**"

In his reflection, Doc took a look around. "Why don't we just see if this place is listed by a licensed real estate agent?"

"**Oh shut up!**" O'Malley snapped.

"But we don't even know if it's been inspected recently," Doc argued. "It could need foundation work."

"Podría tener el molde," Lopez added. (It could have mold.)

"**Both of you shut up!**" O'Malley shouted. "**We're moving in and that's final. It has machine gun turrets, two living quarters with _ample_ closet space, and a short commute to my secret laboratory! …It's **_**perfect**_**.**"

"Yeah," Doc agreed begrudgingly. "But what about the school district?"

"No tenemos ningún niños," Lopez pointed out. (We have no children.)

"It's important to think about resale value, Lopez," Doc replied.

"**Resale value?**" O'Malley cried out. "**Our plan is to rule the world, not make prudent investments!**"

"Es importante tener un plan del retraso," Lopez explained. (It's important to have a fallback plan.)

"**Oh shut up,**" O'Malley scowled, setting off down the hall again. "**We're moving in, that's final.**"

He then entered a room and came across a computer console built next to a huge generator.

"Hey look, a computer," Doc cried out, placing Lopez's head on a nearby window sill. "Now I can finally update my blog!"

"Tenes un weblog?" Lopez asked. (You have a blog?)

"Yeah, it's great," Doc chuckled. "It's just like being a real journalist, but without all the hassle of stuff like liability and accuracy."

"**No,**" O'Malley shouted from his reflection on the screen. "**I need that computer for compiling evil formulas, and to rebuild the weather machine… also to download music. Hahaha!**"

As Doc started typing on the keyboard to get the computer running, Lopez called out, "¿Quien quiere un postal de googlé invita?" (Does anyone want a g-mail invite?)

"Ooh, I do," Doc replied.

"Tengo cuarenta mil a dar," Lopez told him. "Es muy exclusivo." (I have only forty thousand. It's very exclusive.)

As the computer booted up, O'Malley looked around in concern. "**Where's the mouse thingy?**"

"It has one of those red rubber dot thingies on the keyboard," Doc explained, pointing it out. "That's way better than a mouse. I call it a nubbin. Who wants to touch my nubbin?"

* * *

**This is starting to get weird now.**


	8. We're Being Watched

**And now back to Evil Cribs. Today's episode takes us to the lair of O'Malley and his lackeys as they… no, I'm just kidding; it's Episode 46.**

* * *

Chapter 8: We're Being Watched

Three days had passed since Doc/O'Malley and Lopez had moved into the complex and they'd all done their part in making the place a little like home. Now they were both standing next to one of the turrets observing their work.

"**Yeeees, this place is coming along nicely,**" O'Malley purred as he stood by the controls for the gates. "**Excellent work repairing the turrets, Lopez.**"

"Gracias," Lopez replied from his precarious position on the wall. "El trabajar manual me encanta." (Thank you. I find manual labor stimulating.)

In his reflection on the panel's screen, Doc was looking very sulky. "I still say a flowerbox would have been a bit more neighborly."

"**Oh shut up, you fool,**" O'Malley shouted.

"Hey, we should start a neighborhood association," Doc suggested. "It's just like a government, but run by housewives and old people. So it's a lot more efficient at controlling your lives."

"**Shut up!**" O'Malley snapped. "**Get out of my head!**"

"Technically, it's _my_ head," Doc pointed out. "But I don't mind sharing. Don't you remember that talk we had about sharing?"

"_**Shut up!**_" O'Malley screamed, his patience gone.

Meanwhile, outside the complex, a certain Red soldier from Battle Creek was approaching. Ever since he'd woken up and found himself in this strange place, the Red Zealot had been on a noble quest to find the Great Flag again and as he neared O'Malley's lair, his hopes were rising by the minute. "At last," he cried out as he arrived at the gate. "My pilgrimage is over! I have reached the promised land!"

"**Who is that?**" O'Malley ran over to the edge of the wall, looked down and groaned. "**Oh no… not this buffoon! How did he get here?**"

"Él estaba cerca de la bomba, cuando quemó," Lopez assumed. (He was probably blown nearby by the bomb.)

O'Malley sighed and decided to check on the new arrival. "**Helloooo! What do you want?**"

"The disembodied voice of God!" the Red Zealot gasped and he knelt to the ground in prayer. "I hear you, Holy One! I have made it to the temple and await your command!"

"**Up here!**" O'Malley called down, rolling his eyes at the Zealot's incompetence. "**Helloooo, Red Moron. Eyes up, chop-chop!**"

The Red Zealot looked up at this and spotted O'Malley on the wall. "Oh." He got to his feet and beamed at the possessed medic. "Greetings, are you the gatekeeper of the temple?"

"Us? No, we just moved in," Doc called out. "Can you help us move a couch? And do you know any good restaurants nearby?"

O'Malley quickly slapped a hand to his own helmet filter and mumbled, "**Just a second…**" He turned to look at his reflection. "**Listen, you fool. Let me handle this.**"

"I don't know," Doc muttered unsurely. "You haven't been the best choice when it comes to making friends. Maybe I should try."

"**Nonsense,**" O'Malley retorted. "**With the proper handling, this fellow will make an _excellent_ stooge. And _I'm_ the one here with the most experience training Stooges, isn't that right, Lopez?**"

"Nyuk, nyuk," Lopez replied in a voice just like Curly's. (Nyuk, nyuk.)

"**You see?**"

"Okay, you can handle this," Doc sighed resentfully. "But I get to hang my motivational posters in the living room. 'Hang in there, kitty!'"

"**Fine, but I'm telling you that cat will never make it to Friday.**" O'Malley then turned back to the Red Zealot and smiled. "**Yes, I am the guardian of the temple. What do you want?**"

The Zealot bowed to this great figure. "I have travelled great distances in search of enlightenment!"

"**Reaaally, that's perfect,**" O'Malley mused. "**We have _tons_ of that here, but listen. We just can't let anyone in who wants to get in, so goodbye!**"

He turned to leave, but the Red Zealot cried out, "_Wait!_ I will do anything! Just tell me what I need to do to gain entrance."

"Psst, ask him what he knows about gardening," Doc hissed.

"Pregúnteles si él desea sus hombros," Lopez added. (Ask him if we can have his shoulders.)

Doc then looked thoughtful. "Maybe he knows how to use that _computer_ we found."

O'Malley sighed bitterly and pressed a button on the panel which allowed the gates to creak open and let the Zealot in. "**Alright, then, come on in,**" he shouted down. "**We'll think of something…**" He then gave a snigger which turned into a chuckle and evolved into a full-blown laugh.

"En túnel es abajo," Lopez hissed. "Usted va a soplaro." (Tone it down. You're going to blow it.)

But O'Malley was laughing too loud and long to hear him.

"Ese es demasiado," Lopez sighed. (OK, now that's just too much.)

At last, O'Malley ran out of breath and he reached for Lopez when he spotted movement out the corner of his eye and turned round to see a black figure disappear from view behind a pillar. "**What was that?**" he whispered. He picked up Lopez and slowly turned away then looked back again. "**A-ha!**" But the figure wasn't there.

He turned his body right round then spun back round again. "**A-_HA_!**" Still no one there, so he started to make for the door. "**Minding my own business, slowly walking away and… HAA, I got you!**" He whirled right round, but fortune wasn't on his side. "**Oh, for_get_ it…**"

As O'Malley entered his lair, Tex carefully peeked round again. _Gotcha,_ he thought to herself. She then switched on her cloaking device and silently made her way further into the base. It was time to launch her attack…

Meanwhile, out in the distant fields, the Reds and the Blues were continuing their search for life. Tucker, Caboose and Donut set off into the fields to try and find Church while Simmons and Grif took the Warthog Mk 2 out for a quick test-drive. Two and a half hours after they'd left, the two Red privates trudged back to their waiting CO.

"Grif, Simmons, where've you two been?" Sarge called out.

"Our patrol didn't go exactly as planned, Sarge," Simmons admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Did you find something?" Sarge asked then he realized something was missing. "Wait a minute, where's the jeep?"

Grif shuffled his feet nervously. "Yeeaah, it's like this…"

"Grif, I just built that jeep," Sarge warned. "I don't want to hear that it's been destroyed."

"Oh…" Grif gulped. "Well, then maybe I should stop talking, or you can stop listening."

"Grif!" Sarge shouted, stepping forward to lynch Grif with his bare hands.

But Simmons quickly got between them. "No, no, no, it's not destroyed, Sarge. The engine just died."

Sarge quickly restrained himself. "And what exactly were you doing when the engine died?"

"Duh, getting the jeep outta the ditch," Grif replied.

"What was the jeep doing in a ditch?" Sarge yelled.

"Well, I can tell you what it _wasn't_ doing," Grif replied irately. "And that was reenacting the coolest scene from The Dukes of Hazzard ever."

Sarge growled as he leered at Grif and the orange Spartan quickly pointed at his teammate. "Simmons was driving."

"No I wasn't," Simmons protested. "I was holding the arrows and the dynamite!"

After Sarge gave Grif a sound thrashing, they returned to where the powerless Warthog was waiting and Sarge gave it a thorough onceover, before checking the dials. "Wait a second. This thing isn't busted, it's just outta gas."

"It runs on _gas_?" Grif asked with a slight wince.

"Of course not, moron," Sarge retorted. "Where are we gonna get gasoline? I modified the fuel cells to utilize a form of cold fission, powered by solar energy."

"So then why is it dead, sir?" Simmons asked puzzled.

"You would have had to park it in the shade for at least two hours," Sarge replied grumpily. "What were you doing parked in the shade for two hours?"

"Well, I can tell you what we _weren't_ doing," Grif started.

"Ah, forget it," Sarge muttered. "Come on; help me push this thing in the sunlight." Simmons and Grif took positions around the jeep and waited on Sarge. "One… Two… Three!"

Simmons pushed the back of the jeep with all his might. "Hurrrr!"

Meanwhile, Sarge was straining his muscles as he pulled on the driver's side. "Hurrrrniaaa!"

Grif meanwhile leaned against the car doing bugger-all to help. "Hurr," he falsely grunted. "Man, this thing weighs a ton. Holy crap. _Wowzers!_"

Simmons came up from behind and slapped his teammate on the back of his helmet. "Dumbass."

"Oh right," Grif muttered, grabbing the side of the jeep.

This time, they were able to push the Warthog out of the shade and into a nice sunny spot. As they rested their aching muscles, Sarge glanced at the front of the jeep. "Grif, what happened to this fender?"

"It was like that when we took it out," Grif proclaimed.

Sarge then looked at one of the tires. "And where's the hubcap?"

Grif let out a sigh. "Man, this neighborhood's really going to crap."

"I gotta buy those in sets of four, numbnuts," Sarge grunted.

"The jeep's getting power," Simmons announced.

At once, the engine started and the annoying ranchero music started up again.

"Turn that crap off," Sarge ordered.

Simmons quickly switched off the radio but then it started up again as a female voice called out, "Come in. Does anyone hear me? Over."

"What the...?" Sarge cried out. "Who's that?"

"This is Freelancer Tex, looking for anyone from the Blood Gulch Outposts," the voice replied. "Do you read? Over."

"It's that mean chick from the Blue Team," Grif realized.

"Hang up on her," Simmons decided.

"Good idea," Sarge agreed.

But as he reached for the radio, Tex continued her transmission. "I have found O'Malley's base. I repeat; I have found O'Malley's base."

"O'Malley?" Sarge cried out. "Son of a-"

"Where is she?" Simmons yelled.

"They seemed to be holed up in some kind of a fortress," Tex explained without really hearing them. "I'm not sure how I got here or how they built it, but if you can read this, I need you to get to me as fast as you can."

As Tex continued describing her whereabouts, the Reds quickly jumped into action.

"Maybe we could use the radio to triangulate her position," Grif suggested.

"How?" Simmons pointed out. "We only have one radio. We would need a third point to triangulate."

"Okay. Well, let's just pick a point between her and us."

"What? That's not a triangle, you idiot. That's a line!"

"Right, a line that we'll follow straight to Tex. It's the perfect mathematical plan!"

Simmons sighed and slapped his hand to his visor. "Hey Grif, why don't you just stick to criticizing other people's ideas instead of coming up with your own?"

"It _does_ seem to be my talent," Grif admitted.

Sarge meanwhile was examining the back of the Warthog. "I could simulate a _third_ radio by using some of this sand, and the heat from the jeep's tailpipe to make an enormous refractory lens. And then-"

"Or we could just listen to the coordinates she's sending," Grif interrupted, getting back to what he does best.

At that moment, Tex gave out her instructions. "My coordinates are two two niner delta, by one point three seven gamma."

"Uh, yeah, we could do that too," Simmons muttered.

As they set off to find the others, Simmons noticed the despondent look on his CO's face. "What's wrong, Sarge?"

"Nothing," Sarge sighed.

"You really wanted to make the lens, didn't you?" Simmons asked.

"You're damn right!" Sarge snapped.

"Well, we can make it later, when we have more time," Simmons suggested.

"Oh, don't patronize me," Sarge grunted.

Behind them, Tex finished her transmission. "I need you guys to come right away… Or better yet, send someone who can fight."

* * *

**Good grief, doesn't she trust them? Oh, right, of course not.**


	9. It's a Biological Fact

**Episode 47 is where the action is starting again!**

* * *

Chapter 9: It's a Biological Fact

Two hours after the transmission was sent, the Reds and Blues drove up to the beach and met Tex outside the complex.

"What took you guys so long to get here?" she asked as they approached.

"There's six of us, and this is only a three-seater jeep," Simmons replied, pointing at the Warthog Mk 2. "Half of us had to sit on someone else's lap."

"It was a _great_ road trip," Donut cried out. "My favorite part was when Grif tried to change gears, and he accidentally-"

"Oh, please let's not tell the story," Grif groaned. "Is there somewhere I can wash my hands?" Tex pointed to the sea and Grif went over to clean his hands.

"What you find, Tex?" Sarge asked.

"Well, O'Malley's holed up in his fortress," Tex explained. "He's been fortifying his defenses for a few days now, and he's got some help; one of those religious nuts you guys picked up."

"Oh I like them," Caboose giggled. "They were funny."

"Caboose, they tried to kill you because of a _flag_," Tucker reminded him.

"I try not to remember the bad things about people," Caboose replied politely.

"That's _all_ they tried to do," Tucker argued. "There _were_ no good things."

"That's okay," Caboose reassured. "I have a really bad memory- Wow! Look, a beach!"

"Shut up, Caboose," Sarge yelled. "What's yer plan, Tex?"

The Freelancer took out a small device from her belt, placed it in the sand and pressed a button. At once, a large holographic map appeared, showing a panoramic view of O'Malley's lair.

As Tex relayed her plan, she pointed to each of the structures on the map one by one. "Well, first we have to breach the outer wall…"

"Oh, I love breaching," Caboose cheered.

"…Then, we have to get past another wall."

"Two walls?" Grif cried out as he rejoined the group, wiping his hands dry on his armor. "Some people are so materialistic."

"The second wall has a guard tower and an enormous razor-sharp spinning blade."

"What, _that_ thing?" Simmons asked, pointing at the fan. "It's spinning like two miles an hour."

"I didn't say it would be hard to get past," Tex agreed. "After that, we have to pass the gun turrets and break into the building…"

"And then we attack O'Malley," Sarge concluded.

"No," Tex argued. "That's when we plant… this!" She pointed to a small cove where a large black sphere lay.

"…We're planting a volleyball," Caboose muttered.

"It's not a ball," Tex said. "It's a bomb."

Caboose perked up at this. "We're planting a volleybomb?"

Tex rolled her eyes and turned back to the hologram. "I've scouted a location inside the base where we can set it off and take the whole place down, and marked the spot with a big X."

"You scouted it," Tucker said simply.

"Yeah," Tex confirmed, switching off the hologram.

"So… if you got past the two walls, the huge spinning blade, the gun turrets, and made it all the way into the fortress, why didn't you just plant the bomb _then_ instead of putting a big X on the floor?"

Tex gave an uncomfortable look before muttering, "I can't carry it."

"What?" Grif asked.

"What was that?" Simmons added.

"It's too heavy, okay?" Tex shouted. "You happy?"

"Yeah, kinda," Grif replied.

"I need one of you idiots to carry it," Tex continued. "I don't have the upper body strength to move it on my own."

"See?" Grif cried. "Girls act like they're so tough, but the first time they need someone to move a couch, who do they call?" He then became aware of Tex glowering at him. "Please don't kill me."

"Ah, go ahead and kill him. We could use the armor for spare parts." Sarge stepped into the cove and went up to the bomb. "Here, this thing doesn't look so heavy, let me try." He knelt down, grabbed the bomb with both hands and pulled with all his strength. "Hurrrrr!" But try as he might, he couldn't lift it. "Ooff, that thing ain't moving," he grunted.

"I can carry it," Caboose called out, running up to him.

"I guarantee you'll need two people," Tex warned.

"No it's true," Tucker argued. "He's got _crazy_ strength. Church and I think it's God's way of compensating."

With a nod, Caboose reached down, took the bomb in both hands and lifted up as easily as he would lift an empty box. "See?"

"Great Paul's Bunions!" Sarge cried out. "He's like an ox."

"But I have no horns, or lumberjack friends," Caboose grunted.

"Come on, no way it can be that bad," Grif scoffed, stepping towards them. "Let me give it a go." He held out his hands, and Caboose gave the bomb to him but the instant he let go, Grif went sprawling to the ground. "OOOFFF! Okay, you can carry it."

As Caboose took the bomb back, Sarge went over Tex's plan. "Alright, then we'll storm in there, blow up O'Malley, leave Grif for dead, and maybe find some clues about what happened to Church and Lopez."

"You mean your robot?" Tex spoke up. "He's in there with him."

Sarge gasped. "Lopez is in the building?"

At that moment, in the generator room, Lopez was getting very annoyed at their new ally. "Ese persona Rojo está comenzados a conseguir a mi nervios." (That Red guy is really starting to get on my nerves.)

"He keeps asking me if I've accepted the Flag as my savior," Doc agreed from the reflection on the computer screen. "I'm just not comfortable talking about religion in the workplace."

Just then, footsteps ran out down the hall and O'Malley looked round with a groan. "**Oh no, here he comes.**"

"Master, Headmaster," the Red Zealot called out, bowing low as he entered the room. "I have finished the duties you assigned me."

"**You polished all the curtains?**" O'Malley checked.

"Yes, and the ammunition too," the Zealot replied joyfully. "It was like cleaning the impurities from my own essence!"

Lopez gave a mechanical sigh.

"**What about the _evil_ windmill?**" O'Malley asked.

"I greased the engine and filled it with gas," the Red soldier answered with growing rapture. "It was like giving my own soul a tune-up!"

"**Yes, yes, alright fine,**" O'Malley cut in while on the screen Doc rolled his eyes. "**Why don't you see about patching up some of these holes in the wall? I think there's some sinister spackle in the tool shed.**"

"Excellent idea, sir," the Red Zealot replied eagerly, dashing back out the room. "It will probably keep out the crowd of people that's been gathering on the beach."

"**Yes of course, all the people on the beach, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,**" O'Malley sighed dismissively. Then the penny dropped with a very loud clang. "**Wait… What did he say?**"

Down on the beach, everyone was preparing for the big push. Donut was messing around in the Warthog trying to figure out how to park it, Sarge was giving Caboose a little pep talk, and Tucker, Simmons and Grif were having a heated discussion with Tex.

"Wait, let me get this straight," Tex shouted as she tried to get her head round the Reds' change of plan. "The biggest threat we know of is in that building and you don't want me to blow it up?"

"We can't," Simmons confirmed. "We need Lopez's head; it has valuable information stored in it."

"Sorry, I'm going with the bomb," Tex stated, folding her arms. "But hey, here's an idea: Maybe you could find your buddy's head in the rubble when we're done."

"Come on," Grif scoffed. "We can't lift a bomb but we can dig through rubble?"

"Sorry, but there is no way I'm letting O'Malley get away this time," Tex said with finality.

"Just _hire_ her," Tucker suggested.

"What?" Grif asked.

"Hire her to help you get Lopez back," Tucker explained. "She'll do _anything_ for money."

"That's not true," Tex argued.

"It's not?" Tucker grinned. "I'll give you ten bucks to tear off Grif's arm."

At once, Tex turned to the two Reds. "Which one is Grif?"

"See?" Tucker pointed out. "She's not even really _on_ the Blue Team. She was just paid to come help us."

Grif surreptitiously pointed to Simmons. "He's Grif."

"How do we pay her?" Simmons asked. "We don't even have any money. We don't even know what money _is_ in the future."

"Yeah," Grif agreed. "They could have shells or laser beams for currency."

Simmons turned to stare at his teammate. "Laser beams…"

"Yeah, that would be the coolest wallet ever," Grif chuckled.

"Why don't you trade her a favor?" Tucker proposed.

Grif looked confused. "Huh?"

"Have her do _this_ for you, and then you guys owe her a favor," Tucker advised. "That's how these Freelancers get stuff done, right?"

"That'll work," Tex agreed. "I'll help you, and then the two of you have to do something for me."

"Okay, we'll do it," Simmons decided.

"Wait just a second," Grif cut in. "What would we have to do?"

"It all depends," Tex shrugged.

"Depends on what?"

"On what I need... to do some future job."

"Buuuut, it could be anything…"

"That's right, anything."

Grif thought for a moment. "…Like… gay stuff?"

"I have no idea," Tex shouted.

"Well, can we rule out the gay stuff?" Grif said.

By then, Donut had managed to park the jeep and he looked over to the others. "Hey, how come I never get to help?"

Meanwhile, Caboose was starting to struggle to carry the bomb but Sarge was still giving him tips. "No, no, what're you doing? Don't lift with your legs; your back's the strongest muscle in your body. And look man, your knees aren't even locked. How do you expect to stand up straight? Come on, put your _groin_ into it. And stop exhaling on every lift. The goal is to hold your breath as long as possible. Under stress, the body produces all the oxygen it needs." He flexed his arms forward and grunted, "Hurrrr, groin it out!"

"Can't I just… pick this up… when we are ready to go?" Caboose grunted with effort.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Sarge admitted.

With that, Caboose let the bomb drop to the ground and sighed in relief. "Ahhh…"

"Okay, we're ready to go!" Tex called out.

Caboose groaned as he knelt down again. "Crap…"

* * *

**Must be tough, being the strongest man in the group.**


	10. Heavy Metal

**Once more unto the breach, dear readers, as we go into Episode 48.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Heavy Metal

Just outside O'Malley's lair, Sarge gave the Reds, the Blues and Tex his plan of attack. "Okay, listen up, dirtbags," he bellowed. "If we're gonna invade this fortress, we need a good game plan. I have got two options we can use. Number one: We all run _straight at the base_ in a single file line, _screaming_ at the top of our lungs. The enemy will be so flabbergasted ,by the time they have a chance to regroup, we'll already be inside."

"Oh yeah right," Tucker scoffed. "They're not gonna get surprised, they're just gonna start mowing us down."

"That's the inherent beauty of the single file line," Sarge encouraged. "They can only kill the person in front. So if we order from least important to most important, with Tucker being in the front and me being in the back, then we _just might make it through_."

"Don't you think Caboose should be in the back since he's the one carrying the bomb?" Simmons pointed out.

"Nope," Sarge replied. "Caboose is in front of me. We need someone in back who can objectively evaluate how the plan is working."

"How're you gonna know if it's not working?" Tucker asked curiously.

"If Caboose dies, I'll know we're in trouble and _immediately abort_."

"I think that's a good plan," Caboose grunted while holding the bomb.

Grif sighed then turned to his leader. "Sarge, while that is the most retarded idea I've ever heard, I just wanted to thank for not putting me in front of the line.

"Don't get misty, Francine," Sarge scolded. "We'll have already killed you and used your corpse to jam up the windmill."

Grif shuddered at the thought as Sarge concluded, "I think we can all agree given our current situation, it's the perfect plan."

Everyone glanced at each other silently and gave nervous grimaces.

"Okay," Sarge said. "Well, let me tell you about my other plan."

"I'm _hoping_ you've got a better idea," Grif muttered to Tex.

"Using parts from the Warthog, we build what I like to call 'The Grif Cannon'," Sarge explained. "Utilizing the power of the Grif Cannon, we make a Grif-sized hole in the outer wall… or we paint it a very disgusting color."

"Oh, man," Grif moaned, visor-palming himself.

Inside the base, O'Malley had gathered his troops to prepare the defense. "**Hahaha fools,**" he chortled. "**They don't stand a _chance_ against us, do they men?"**

"No. Los macho comer os," Lopez replied from the windowsill. (No. We will crush them.)

"The Flag is on our side," the Red Zealot agreed. "We will be victorious!"

"**Stupendous!**" O'Malley crowed. "**To your battle stations! On to crushing victory! The fools don't stand a chance against our might! Muahahahahahahaaaaa!**" As he finished laughing, he looked round and saw his stooges were still there. "**What're you still doing here?**"

"I forget; which battle station is mine?" the Red Zealot asked, scratching his head. "I'm still learning my way around the fortress."

"Necesito a llega mí llevo," Lopez reminded his master. " No tengo ningún torso." (I need someone to carry me. I have no torso.)

O'Malley sighed, picked up Lopez and shoved the Red Zealot out the door.

By then, Tex had formulated a better idea to infiltrate the fortress: two soldiers would escort Caboose through a secret tunnel into the base while the others would enter through the two walls and take out the two turrets.

So now, Sarge quickly contacted the others through a secret channel on his helmet radio. "Okay, is everyone ready? Donut, Caboose and I will move the bomb down the staircase and along the left side of the base."

"Please hurry," Caboose grunted as if he was in labor. "I don't know how much longer I can talk like this."

"Man, that does look heavy," Donut noted unhelpfully. "You really should consider wearing some kind of supportive undergarment."

"Uh, no thanks," Caboose winced. "I can do it."

"Come on now, don't be shy!" Donut egged on. "You can borrow one of mine! I'm thinking something in lace. Lace is totally in right now!"

Meanwhile, in a passage inside the outer wall, while the Red privates received Sarge's call, Tucker spotted a gun lying nearby. "Ooh, sniper rifle!"

But Tex grabbed it seconds before he could. "I got it."

"Fuck!" Tucker growled.

Nearby, Simmons nodded at his CO's orders. "Copy that, Sarge."

"Simmons, you and the two bullet magnets move up the right side and try to cause some kind of distraction," Sarge ordered.

"Any suggestions?" Simmons asked.

"As long as it draws their fire away from us and towards you, _I don't care_," Sarge replied.

Then Donut's voice cut in. "Try some dance moves! Oh, you could do a musical number!"

"Get off the radio, Donut!" Sarge snapped.

Simmons sighed and disconnected the call. "Alright, looks like we're on our own, guys. Tex, how does it look from up there?"

From her vantage point on top of the wall, Tex peered through the sniper scope at the turrets. "I don't see any movement, but the guns are definitely online."

Tucker gave a sentimental sigh. "You know what, I miss the old days, when we _didn't_ risk our lives and you guys were all just a bunch of nameless assholes I would yell at with Church."

"It's okay," Grif sniffed. "We hate you too, man."

"Okay, let's move out!" Sarge bellowed through their helmet speakers.

From his vantage point in the middle of the fortress, O'Malley let out his evil laugh. "**Here they come! Get ready!**"

At the turrets, his lackeys waited, poised for attack.

"Prepare to be cleansed, infidels!" the Red Zealot yelled.

"No los dejarán cruzar la frontera," Lopez promised, balanced on the triggers. (I will not let them cross the border.)

From the top of the outer wall, Simmons gave his leader the sitrep. "Alright, so far so good. Sarge, we are in position."

On the left side of the base, Sarge received Simmons' report. "Roger that. We are also in position. No sign of the enemy."

"Man, this is the easiest fortress invading mission of all time," Donut hissed.

"Maybe for you," Caboose grunted indignantly. "This thing is heavy for me!" And he let the bomb drop to the ground, with a thud that attracted the Red Zealot's attention.

"Careful with that thing, Caboose," Sarge shouted. "You could blow us all to smithereens!"

Donut then spotted the Zealot pointing his turret at them and gulped. "Uh, Sarge? I'm pretty sure that guy up there with the gun sees us…"

But Sarge didn't hear him. "You wanna blow people to smithereens; at least make sure Grif is nearby."

Suddenly, the Red Zealot opened fire and Donut cried out, "Duck!"

"What the...?" Sarge yelped as he and Donut dived behind a wall.

"A duck, where?" Caboose shouted, looking around. "I love ducks."

"Get down, idiot," Sarge yelled, pulling Caboose aside while Donut rolled the bomb towards him.

On the outer wall, Lopez had also opened fire on the others.

"We're under fire!" Grif yelled through the radio. "Sarge, we're under fire!"

"Good!" Sarge called out. "Now jump up and draw them off."

"What'd he say?" Tucker shouted above the shooting.

"Uh, he was breaking up," Grif lied. "I think he said something about staying here and not doing anything risky."

"Tex, see what you can do about that gun!" Simmons called up.

"You got it." With barely a pause, Tex raised the sniper rifle, took aim through the scope and fired a round, knocking Lopez off the turret. "Yeah, _headshot!_"

"Nice shooting, Tex," Grif cheered.

"Tucker, you and Tex head up across the bridge and try to take out that other turret," Simmons ordered. "We'll head into the base and see if we can find O'Malley."

Tucker stared at him annoyed. "Why do I have to go up against a machinegun and you guys get to go play hide-and-seek?"

"The guy we're _seeking_ has a rocket launcher," Simmons told him.

"Oh, right," Tucker gulped, paling under his armor. "Uh, have fun doing that."

Meanwhile as the Red Zealot kept firing, Sarge turned to the blue Spartan. "Caboose, we'll hold them off from up here. You take the bomb and try to sneak in the front of the base."

"Okay," Caboose nodded then he set off as fast as he could while holding the bomb.

"Wow, Sarge," Donut breathed impressed. "You actually decided to sacrifice yourself for someone else!"

"Quiet, Donut!" Sarge snapped. "I'm gonna need your help. When the turrets kill Caboose, I'm gonna need _you_ to carry the bomb into the base."

Meanwhile, Tex and Tucker had reached a large windmill built into the inner wall.

"I can't see him from here," Tex told her ally, dashing quickly through the fan. "Let's move out."

"Okay, but jus- Whoahoa!" Tucker suddenly fell through a gap in the fan and landed in a small chamber with a thump. "Ah!"

"Tucker, are you okay?" Tex called down.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Tucker replied, getting to his feet. "I dropped down into some kind of hole. Can you give me a hand?"

Just then, the Zealot fired at Tex and she looked round. "Oh, let me take out this turret. I'll be back for you later." With that, she ran off.

With a sigh, Tucker started dusting his armor down then he spotted a nearby pedestal. "What is _that?_" He stepped closer to the podium and gasped when he saw what was on it. "Whoahoho, what the hell is this?"

On the other side of the inner wall, Grif and Simmons had reached the slow-moving blade.

"Okay, Grif, we just need to jump through there," Simmons told his teammate.

"Okay, go for it," Grif said.

"Me? Why me first?"

"Because, I don't wanna die?"

"But this thing's moving super slow, see?" Simmons turned to face the entrance and ten seconds later, the blade went past with a mighty WHOOOSH!

"Nice knowing you, Simmons," Grif said simply.

Meanwhile, the Zealot kept firing at Sarge and Donut, which made the former very angry. "No, shoot the guy with the bomb!" he yelled out. "You're ruining the plan!"

Behind the turret, Tex was struggling to find an opening to shoot the enemy. "I'm pinned down, I need assistance!"

Right on cue, Tucker leapt out from the other side, whipped out a small handle and tapped the Zealot on the shoulder with his other hand. "Hey, asshole!"

"Huh?" The Zealot whirled round to look but before he could react, Tucker pressed a button on the handle and two blades of energy flashed out around his fist. Then with a mighty swing of his weapon, he sent the Zealot flying off the turret.

With a sickening thud, the Red Zealot crashed onto the beach where he lay, bleeding from a wound in his groin. "My quest is over," he groaned. "I can see the Flag… It's so… flappy… Herk, bleaahh…" And he was still.

Tex stepped out of cover and stood next to Tucker, staring at the glowing sword. "Hey, where'd you get that?"

"I dunno, I found it in the hole," Tucker replied. "Pretty cool, huh? Look what I can do…" He stepped forward and gave the sword another swing.

"Hey, you wanna trade it for the sniper rifle?" Tex asked unsubtly.

"No thanks, I'm good," Tucker replied.

Inside the base, Caboose glanced around the corridor, still carrying the bomb in his hands. "X… I'm looking for an X." He then spotted something on the ground and took a closer look. "That is a plus sign, not an X."

He then stepped into the generator room, muttering to himself, "I need to find an X."

Suddenly, the computer gave a loud buzz and a voice called out, "Hello? Caboose, is that you? Can you hear me?"

Caboose whirled round to face the computer. "Church?"

* * *

**Ha, bet you thought we forgot about him, didn't ya?**


	11. Roaming Charges

**Now we're going back in time for Episode 49! Hey, that rhymes.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Roaming Charges

Nearly two thousand years before the siege of O'Malley's base, Church was wandering around the halls of the same complex. He'd been searching the place for hours, trying to find his team or Doc/O'Malley but to no avail. _Okay, think Church. __The bomb went off, you got knocked out, you woke up and you were here... _"Question is, where _is_ here?" he wondered aloud.

Nearby, a wall suddenly slid open and he stepped inside to look. As he passed a computer terminal, an electronic voice suddenly called to him, "HELLO."

Church almost jumped out of his body and he whirled round to see a glowing sky-blue graphed face staring at him on the computer screen. "YOU ARE EARLY."

"Me?" Church asked puzzled.

The face bobbed forward in a nod. "YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE FOR ANOTHER 1,856 YEARS."

Church looked around in confusion. "What is this place?"

"THIS IS THE HOUSING FACILITY FOR THE GREAT WEAPON," the face explained grimly. "I AM THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT WEAPON. YOU ARE THE GREAT DESTROYER. YOU WILL DEMOLISH THIS FACILITY, KILL ME, STEAL THE GREAT WEAPON AND BRING ABOUT THE GREAT DOOM FOR BILLIONS OF PEOPLE…" The face then brightened up. "WELCOME! HOW MAY I BE OF ASSISTANCE?"

"What're you _talking_ about?" Church spluttered.

"YOUR COMING HAS BEEN FORTOLD BY THE GREAT PROPHECY."

Church folded his arms. "Does your society have any other adjectives besides great?"

"THE GREAT PROPHECY WARNS THAT THE GREAT DESTROYER WILL BE A BLUE BEING."

"And you think that's me?" Church asked.

"THE BLUE BEING WILL BE KNOWN AS THE STUPIDEST LIFE FORM IN THE UNIVERSE."

Church suddenly had a thought. "Wait a second… This Destroyer guy, he dresses like me but he's dumber than anyone else in existence?"

The face nodded. "CORRECT."

Church's thought quickly evolved into a terrible, horrifying realization. "Oh crap…"

Meanwhile, 1,856 years later, the Reds and Blues now had full control of the base, but there was no sign of Doc/O'Malley and Lopez. So Tucker and Donut went outside to keep watch, Tex kept a lookout for O'Malley on the other side and Sarge, Grif and Simmons began a thorough search of the grounds.

After a while, Grif let out a yawn and stretched his arms. "Yeah, I'm bored. I wanna stop doing whatever it is I'm pretending to be doing."

"You're _supposed_ to be helping me look for Lopez, meat sack," Sarge reminded him gruffly. "You said you saw him up here."

"We saw his head," Grif confirmed.

"Just the head?"

"Yeah. It was operating the right turret."

"How was he pulling the triggers?" Sarge asked dumbfounded.

"He's very determined," Simmons told him.

"You're sure it was Lopez?" Sarge checked.

"Well, I heard screaming in Spanish and bullets flying through the air," Grif recalled. "So either that was Lopez, or this is Mexican New Year."

"Well, where's his head now?" Sarge asked.

"I don't know; Tex shot it." Simmons tuned his radio to the Freelancer's frequency. "Hey, Tex!"

"What?" Tex snapped.

"When you shot Lopez's head, where did it go?" Simmons asked.

"How do I know?" Tex retorted.

"Are you sure you hit it?" When she didn't respond, Simmons added, "I mean, is it _possible_ that you missed?" Still no reply. "I mean just this one time. It doesn't say anything about your overall skill level."

Tex cut off the line so Simmons just shrugged. "Yeah, she says she doesn't know."

Just then, Caboose, the dumbest person in existence, came running up the passageway, a look of terror on his face. "Mister Sergeant, Mister Sergeant!" he called out. "Come quick!"

"You'd better have a damn good reason for interrupting our search," Sarge shouted, setting off with his Privates after Caboose. "Can't you see this is an extremely organized and highly motivated operation?"

Outside the main gate, Tucker switched on his energy sword and showed it to Donut.

"Wow, that's sweet!" Donut breathed. "I like the glowing part. Does it make cool noises when you swing it?"

"I don't think so," Tucker murmured. "No, wait, is 'whoosh' a noise? Because if it is, then it does. It goes whoosh, whoosh, whshsh, whshshsh, _whithishsh, wh-kch, chchchchc, whshsshh, hhshshsh ING, ching, whsch, wheouw!_" He then swung the sword a few times, making it whoosh in the air. "See?"

"And you found that in a hole?" Donut asked.

"Yeah, dude," Tucker replied. "I was just walking along, following Tex, not really paying attention, you know, when I fell in some hole. And uh, Tex didn't help me out, she figured she was better off without me, and that's when I found this."

Donut looked deflated. "You know, most people would tell that story in a way that makes it sound a little better."

"Yeah, but you know, that's not really my style." Tucker then started turning the sword on and off, in the manner of a thug flicking his switch-blade.

"Man, I've _never_ found something that cool in a hole," Donut cried. "And I've explored just about every hole you can think of!"

Tucker glanced at him annoyed. "Hey dude, do me a favor and don't talk like that when I'm playing with my thing."

Meanwhile, Sarge, Simmons and Grif came into the generator room and found Caboose waiting by the computer, muttering in fear about someone he'd found.

"Caboose, what're you yammering about?" Sarge yelled. "Did you find Lopez?"

"Someone meaner!" Caboose whimpered.

"O'Malley?"

"_Meaner!_"

"You found someone meaner than the guy trying to destroy the universe?" Grif asked curiously.

"Yes!" Caboose squeaked.

Just then, from the computer console, a familiar voice called out, "Caboose, is that you? Can you hear me?"

"See? It's Church," Caboose gulped. "And he's meaner than ever!"

"Caboose, is that you?" Church's voice repeated. "Can you hear me?"

"Church, I can hear you. Can you hear me?"

"Caboose, is that you? Can you hear me?"

"Church, I can hear you. How are you?"

"Caboose, is that you? Can you hear me?"

"I think it might be a recording," Simmons reasoned.

"Quiet," Grif hissed with a chuckle. "I wanna see how long this lasts."

"Church, I can hear you," Caboose shouted. "Do you miss me?"

"Move over, brainiac," Sarge cut in, pushing Caboose to one side. "Let me see if I can get the rest of this thing to play." He knelt down by the computer, pulled open the back of the console and began to fidget with the wires.

"I carried the bomb and found Church," Caboose said proudly. "I am a very important person."

"Yes, we're very impressed," Grif sighed sarcastically.

Sarge glanced at the machinery inside the console. "Hmmm, I think I can reroute power from the main coupling to the memory storage compartment. Grif, we may have to use some of your circuitry from your armor's life support system."

"Or I could just hit the play button," Grif interposed.

"Are you sure? I'm already down here."

"I'm sure."

"I already got the access panel off and everything."

"Pressing play."

"Alright, fine," Sarge sighed reluctantly, standing up.

Grif pressed the play button and an image of Church appeared on the screen. "Caboose, I know you're there," he said. "I'm leaving this message from two thousand years in the past. Whatever you do, _don't, touch, anything!_ Apparently, you're this culture's version of the apocalypse. You're going to destroy this building and somehow bring about doom for their entire race."

"Mmmmmmm, nooo," Caboose muttered. "That doesn't sound like me. I like people, and buildings also."

Simmons grabbed the blue Spartan's shoulders and stared at him with growing urgency. "Caboose, what did you do with the bomb you were carrying?"

"I put it on the X, like I was supposed to," Caboose replied, pointing to it.

"Uh oh," Simmons gulped.

"I think we'd better get outta here," Grif cried out.

But Church had more to tell them. "Whatever you do, don't touch the glowing weapon thing they have stored there."

"Uh oh," Simmons gasped again.

"And if you do, definitely don't bring it into the main building…"

At that moment, Tucker and Donut entered the building, the teal Spartan still brandishing his sword. "What's up, dawgs?"

"…Otherwise the whole place is gonna lock down, and you're gonna be trapped," Church concluded.

Just then, the gate slammed shut behind the two and all around the base, shutters slid down and the windmills began to spin faster.

"Automatic garage doors! Cool!" Donut cried out.

In the generator room, Caboose scowled at the image of Church. "Would you stop saying bad things that come true? Or… say them ten seconds earlier!"

Sarge quickly turned on his radio. "Tex, this is Sarge. Do not detonate the bomb!"

"I don't have a detonator," Tex replied. "It's on a timer."

"A countdown timer?" Grif asked.

"No, a count_up_ timer," Tex replied in a voice laced with sarcasm. "It goes from one to explode. Of _course_, a countdown timer, you idiot!"

"I think we might be in trouble," Sarge gulped. "Ah, fudge pumps!"

Meanwhile in the past, unaware of the danger he was putting his friends into, Church finished recording his message to Caboose. "Just don't _touch_ anything, don't _look_ at anything, and don't _breathe_ on anything!"

"MESSAGE RECORDED," the computer said then the face reappeared. "DO YOU THINK IT WILL WORK?"

"No," Church replied, letting his shoulders sag glumly. "Like you said man, that guy's dumb as a rock! But at least, he has some slightly _less_ stupid people around him that can kind of help him from time to time."

Back in the future, with T-minus 3 minutes left, the two Teams were taking the news of their imminent deaths in their own respective manner.

"_Just three minutes left on the bomb!_" Sarge screamed at the top of his voice.

Tucker grabbed Caboose in a hug and they both burst into tears.

"_WHAAAAH!_" Donut yelled, running around in circles. "_We're all gonna explode and die!_"

Simmons banged and kicked on the console, cursing and shouting.

Grif was scratching at the walls in a panic. "Simmons, come over here and help me chew on this wall. _We can eat our way out!_"

Meanwhile in the past, with T-minus 975,513,603 minutes left, Church just shook his head with a sigh. "Yeah, on second thought, I'd better get back there and handle this personally." He turned round to think. The computer had told him that he was stranded in the past, so maybe… "Y'know, if I could only get back to our old bases, maybe I can change some key events and keep them from getting there…" He turned back to the computer. "Hey, do you have any way to teleport me to Blood Gulch?"

"NO," the face replied. "BUT WORKING AT FULL CAPACITY, I COULD CREATE A TELEPORTER IN APPROXIMATELY 1,000 YEARS."

"A thousand years, huh?" Church sighed. "Kind of a long wait…" He sat on the floor to rest his body. Something told him he might need his strength. After a long silence, he looked up at the computer again. "Um, you know any jokes?"

"DID YOU HEAR THE ONE ABOUT THE POSITRONIC BRAIN?"

Church thought for a moment. "Oh yeah, that's the one with the active matrix and the…"

"YES, THAT'S IT. I JUST LOVE THAT ONE. HA. HA. HA."

"Yeah, it's funny. It's old, but yeah it's funny."

"HOW ABOUT THE ONE WITH THE JEWISH SIMM CHIP AND THE IRISH EXPANSION SLOT?"

"Hey come on, dude. Let's try to keep it clean."

"HEY, PULL MY DONGLE." The face nodded to a lever just under its screen. "COME ON, YOU BIG BABY, JUST ONE PULL. IT WON'T KILL YOU."

Church groaned and put his head in his hands. _This was going to be a long wait…_

* * *

**Yeah, what can you do?**


	12. Silver Lining

**With Episode 50, I'm officially halfway through the Blood Gulch Chronicles! Now prepare for a little déjà vu with a twist.**

* * *

Chapter 12: Silver Linings

Trapped in O'Malley's lair, with no hope of escape, the Reds stood around the bomb and watched the seconds ticking away.

"Just two minutes left," Grif groaned despondently.

"Men, I don't want this to sound pessimistic," Sarge muttered. "But I'm _absolutely certain_ we're all gonna die!"

"I think that that's a totally objective assessment of the situation, sir," Simmons sighed.

Meanwhile, Tucker was smashing his energy sword against one of the shutters, prying it open. "What if we just beat on these window shutters together, we can get 'em open!"

"No," Sarge protested. "That would be the coward's way out, fruitlessly trying to escape instead of accepting your own fate!"

By then, Tucker had knocked the shutter off one of its hinges. "But I can see daylight!"

"It's true," Sarge moaned. "Only a miracle can save us now…"

The two Teams didn't know it, but that miracle was coming sooner than they thought…

…For in the past, the computer had finally finished its work. "TELEPORTER COMPLETE, SLIGHTLY BEHIND SCHEDULE," the face said.

With a sigh, Church stood up, wincing at his squeaking joints. For the last thousand and three years, he'd spent most of his time exploring the complex, collecting cans of motor oil to sustain his robot body, telling his life story to the face or listening to its rather terrible jokes. "You know," he muttered. "It might have gone a bit faster if you hadn't spent so much processor time telling knock-knock jokes."

"KNOCK KNOCK."

"Enough!" Church pulled out an oilcan that he'd found some weeks ago and began greasing his rusty parts. "Do you have the coordinates to send me to Blood Gulch or not?"

"YES. DO YOU HAVE A PLAN YET?"

"I've been standing in this hallway thinking for a thousand years," Church replied, tossing the empty can aside. "I've had time."

The face looked intrigued. "AND?"

Church popped open the last can of motor oil and took a swig. "Well, the main thing I need to do is keep myself from dying."

"THAT'S A GIVEN."

"And since all our problems stem from O'Malley jumping from Tex to Caboose, all I need to do is prevent _her_ from dying too."

"BECAUSE YOU SECRETLY LOVE HER."

"Oh, don't start that again!" Church snapped. "So, all I need to do is kill the pink guy that sticks the grenade on her."

"SOUNDS EASY," the face replied.

Church nodded in agreement and took another gulp of oil. "Well, I have knowledge of everything that takes place beforehand, so as long as I don't interfere too much or get spotted, should be a frigging breeze."

"READY TO TRANSPORT."

Church finished off the motor oil, tossed the can onto a nearby pile and stepped towards the console. "Okay, let's do this. Goodbye… um, computer… You know what; you'd think I would have come up with a name for you in these thousand years."

"IT'S GARY, BUT THANKS FOR ASKING." Church just smiled as a blue light started to glow under his feet. "SEE YOU IN A FEW HUNDRED YEARS."

The light engulfed Church's body and he was teleported away. Seconds later, he came running around the corner, a look of urgency on his face. "Computer, you've got to send me back!"

Gary looked confused. "TO BLOOD GULCH? YOU JUST LEFT."

"No, no, no, not to Blood Gulch, to Sidewinder!" Church cried. "Man, I _totally_ screwed everything up!"

"HOW?" Gary asked.

* * *

**(A.N.: But let us leave that aside for a later episode and concentrate instead on our Church's adventures in time.)**

* * *

In the canyon known as Blood Gulch, a veteran Spartan-II in dented red armor stood outside his Base, working on his latest project: a robotic soldier. He had finished work on its lower half and was working on the features when he heard a call from the Base's main entrance. "Hey, Sarge!"

Sarge turned round and saw Grif standing in the doorway. "What now?"

"Command's on the phone," Grif replied. "They want to talk about some kind of upcoming delivery!"

"Dag nabbit! I'm _never_ gonna finish this mechanized robot at this rate. I'll be right there." With a sigh, Sarge put his tools down, stood up and looked at his half-built robot. "Now, don't you go anywhere, Lopez." Chuckling at his joke, he ran into the Base after Grif.

Seconds later, a blue light flashed out and a cobalt blue Spartan appeared. "Ahhh, it's good to be back here. It's been a long t-" Church broke off with a sigh. "Oh, who am I kidding, even a thousand years doesn't make this dirthole any more appealing."

He then looked round and let out a groan. "Oh, what the hell? He stuck me at Red Base." Then he noticed Lopez's legs standing next to him. "Hmm, it must be _way_ before Tex shows up, the robot isn't even done yet." He gave them a little pat. "Hurry up and get finished, buddy. I'm gonna need that body pretty soon." _But hopefully not,_ he added to himself.

As Church made to leave, something caught his eye. "What's that?" He looked down and saw two switches lying on the ground, one significantly larger than the other. With a chuckle to himself, he kicked a bit of dirt onto the smaller switch. "You just got an upgrade, pal." With that, he ran off into the canyon.

Seconds later, Sarge returned from his call to Command and picked up the smaller switch then he gasped. "Oh no! How did all this dirt get into Lopez's switch?" He shook it out with a sigh. "It better not short out when I use it, could take out both the leg motors."

Meanwhile, Church spotted his Base on the other side of the canyon and crept closer towards it. "I wonder just how early I am…"

At that moment, Church's past self was standing next to the teleporter looking out to where his teammate was. "Did they come out? Tucker!"

"What?" Tucker called back from the receptacle in the middle of the valley, the sun glinting on his regulation blue armor.

"Did they come out the other side?" Church asked.

Tucker looked at the pile of ash-covered rocks next to the exit. "Yeah, but they're all black and smoking," he shouted in reply. "Maybe you've got it turned up too high!"

"What're you talking about?" Church asked, glancing at the side of the teleporter. "I don't see a knob or anything on this thing. Hey, you think I could throw a grenade through here?"

"What?" Tucker cried out. "That would never work!"

Just then, a Spartan-II in teal armor stepped out of the Base. "Hey, men," he called in a voice like a warm-hearted father. "Sorry to interrupt, would you mind huddling up, fellas?"

"Be right there, Captain Flowers," Tucker replied.

Church leapt off the roof and Flowers turned to him fondly. "How _are_ you adjusting to the climate on Blood Gulch, Private Church?"

"Fine… little warm, but okay," Church replied, secretly glad he could get away from the chilly weather on Sidewinder.

"That's great," Flowers beamed, patting the younger soldier on the back. "You have any problems at all, you let me know."

"Umm, okay," Church muttered.

Tucker then came up to them and saluted smartly. "What's up, sir?"

"Sir?" Flowers gave him a patronizing look. "_Tucker_, I told you to call me Captain or Cappy. I don't want silly things like rank to interfere with our team dynamic."

"You got it, Cappy," Tucker replied.

The Captain looked at his two soldiers with pride. "I think I'm commanding the finest army in all of Blood Gulch."

"Isn't there only one other army, those Red guys?" Tucker asked.

"Yeah, you know; the enemy?" Church added.

"I'll tell you who your enemy is, gentlemen," Flowers replied grimly. "Apathy; Passivity; _Indifference_… And yes, also those Red guys."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about our orders from Command, er Cappy," Church continued. "And I gotta tell you, I don't think three guys are enough to stage such an elaborate offensive."

"I think we should listen to this guy, Captain," Tucker suggested. "He seems to know plenty about being offensive."

"Can it, shitbird," Church snapped.

"See?"

Flowers gave a heartfelt chuckle. "Men, your delightful tomfoolery puts a spring in my step and bounce in my britches." He patted Tucker on the top of his helmet and rubbed Church's shoulders. "If I weren't your commanding officer, I'd pick you both up, give you a giant bear hug and make you call me Daddy."

"Um, thank God for the chain of command," Church muttered uncomfortably.

Flowers then gave his team a serious look. "Now I know you're worried about our mission, but I can tell you this: There is nothing more important to me than the safety, and well-being of my men, or my name isn't Captain Butch Flowers."

"Does that mean we all get sniper rifles?" Tucker asked hopefully.

The Captain nodded. "I'm gonna put in an order for yours tomorrow, Private Tucker," he promised. "But I need to get some shut-eye first."

"_Awesome!_" Tucker cheered. "But it's like 3:15 in the afternoon."

"You're forgetting about the time change, Tucker," Church reminded him.

"Oh yeah, it's like 3:18," Tucker recalled. "Why the hell is daylight savings time here only three minutes?"

"Good question, Private Tucker," Flowers replied. "It'll have to wait for another day; some of us need our beauty sleep. Not everyone has your striking metrosexual good looks."

"That's true," Tucker agreed.

From behind a rock, Church's future self watched as the Captain retreated into the Base and his double went on patrol with Tucker. "Holy crap, Captain Flowers is still alive," he breathed. "Oh man, I might be able to fix everything at once!"

Inside the Base, Flowers made his way to the sleeping quarters and leant against the wall by his bed with a sigh. "And now to go to sleep, standing up with my eyes open, as is my custom…" He settled down for his rest.

Meanwhile, Church slipped into the Base, went into the medical ward and grabbed a syringe and some medicine. Then he went into the sleeping quarters and spotted his leader. "Captain Flowers!"

Flowers grunted and blinked as he looked up. "God, don't sneak up on me like that, can't you see I'm sleeping?"

"Sorry, Sir," Church apologized sheepishly. "Look, I know you probably don't remember me that well-"

"Course I remember you, Church," Flowers interrupted. "I just saw you two minutes ago."

"Oh right, yeah, it's uh, it's been longer for me," Church muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyway, there's no nice way to put this, but you're gonna die of a massive heart attack tonight."

"That doesn't sound like me," Flowers cried out. "I'm a team player."

"And I can't tell you how I know this," Church continued, filling the syringe with the medicine. "But I need you to take this injection, so that you can live and together we can beat the Reds. That way, a lot of really weird and totally inexplicable stuff won't happen."

Flowers stared at him in confusion. "I don't understand anything you just said, and I've only known you for a short time. But go ahead and inject me, Private Church." He took off his glove and held out his arm so that Church could inject him with the medicine then put the glove back on. "Thank you, son. I'm feeling much be-better. AAGH!" He suddenly gasped and grabbed his chest.

"What's the matter?" Church cried out.

"That medication…" Flowers gasped, falling to his knees. "It didn't have… ugh… Aspirin in it, did it? I'm allergic to… Aspirin."

"Ummm…" Church gulped in alarm.

Flowers fell on all fours as he grunted in pain. "Can't feel haunches… Spleen failing… Glutes, glutenizing…" He collapsed to the floor and rolled on his side. "Church… Before I die, I have to… tell you something incredibly important… It may hold the key… to our victory here…"

"What?" Church yelled, kneeling down by his leader. "What is it?"

Flowers opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was "Herk, blahhh…" And he closed his eyes and gave up the ghost.

"Oh, crap," Church groaned then he heard voices ringing down the passage and he quickly ran for it.

"No, Tucker, you can't hold my sniper rifle until tomorrow," his past self yelled, running into the sleeping quarters clutching his sniper. "Captain, what time did you wanna-" He stopped as he saw Flowers' body on the floor. "Captain?"

As Tucker came in from behind, Church knelt by his leader, felt for a pulse and gasped in dismay. "Holy crap… He's dead, Tucker. I think he might have had a heart attack in his sleep."

"Dude, that's _horrible!_" Tucker sighed and bowed his head. "This is a sad day…" He then looked up. "I got dibs on the armor!"

Outside the Base, Future Church shook his head, angry with himself. "Well, that didn't work out so well. I better lay low before I do some more damage."

For the next few weeks, Church went into hiding in a cave by one of the cliffs. Sometimes he would sneak into one of the Bases and pinch a few cans of motor oil to sustain his body. He watched as his past self and Tucker went out to spy on the Reds as they received their new vehicle. Then two days later…

"Man, this sucks," Church muttered, pacing impatiently around his cave. "It's still weeks until Tex shows up and I still haven't seen any sign of that pink guy yet."

"Hi!" a voice called out to him.

Church turned round and saw a Spartan-II wearing red armor that's slightly newer than Sarge's standing in the entrance of the cave. "Ummm, hello," he replied, failing to recognize the new arrival as his target, Donut.

"Do you have any elbow grease?" Donut asked.

Church raised an eyebrow. "What're you _talking_ about?"

"How about headlight fluid? This is the store, right?"

"What?" Church shook his head in bafflement. "Look man, there's only two places _in_ this God damn canyon."

"Look, I just _came_ from Red Base," Donut told him.

"Well," Church replied, stepping up to the entrance. "Then the only other place that you can go is… that way." He pointed towards the Blue Base.

"Okay, thanks, mister!" Donut beamed and he set off.

"Hey, wait a second," Church called out. "Is that pink guy over at Red Base yet?"

Donut whirled round at this. "_Pink_ guy? I don't know any _pink_ guys. There's a maroon guy and an orange guy, but no pink guys. See ya later!" And he ran off towards the Base.

"Yeah, thanks," Church sighed. "What an idiot…" Then he suddenly remembered where he saw him. "Wait a minute."

He ran out of the cave and spotted Donut as he crested the hill and saw the Base. "Oh sweet, they sell tanks!"

"Hey, buddy, don't go down there!" Church called out.

But Donut didn't hear him as he ran down and then noticed Church's past self. "Is that the guy from the cave? How'd he get down here so fast?"

Church hurried down the cliffs, but his robotic body was so stiff from his many weeks of waiting that by the time he reached the Base, Donut had already run off with the Blue's flag. "Oh crap…"

At that moment, Caboose came running out of the Base. "Hey, the General stopped by and picked up the flag!"

Church's past self whirled round at this. "Wait a second… What did he say?"

As he and Tucker ran into the Base, Future Church looked round and spotted the tank nearby. "There's Sheila… Sheila!"

He waited until the Blues were on the roof then he ran over to the tank. "Sheila, Sheila, hey wake up!" he yelled, just as his past self shot at Donut. "Wake up, hey, Sheila come on, turn on! Uhh… ignition!"

He then heard himself shouting at Caboose to stay there so he quickly ducked behind the tank. "Oh, crap, crap, come on, activate!"

At once, the tank's voice responded. "Thank you for activating the M808V Main Battle Tank. You may call me Phyllis."

"Hey She-" Church stopped and looked confused. "Wait, Phyllis? Why not Sheila?"

"Name overwritten," the tank announced. "You may now call me Sheila."

"Whatever," Church dismissed. "Quickly, I need you to run through all your weapons system programs."

"Affirmative. Auto-lock is enabled. Barrel recoil dampers are enabled."

"Yeah, c'mon, c'mon, hurry."

"Extra ammo management is disabled. The 'Friendly Fire' protocol is enabled."

"Friendly Fire," Church cut in. "That's the one that kills teammates, right?"

"Affirmative," Sheila replied.

"Alright..." Church nodded then cleared his throat. "Disable the 'Friendly Fire' protocol!"

"'Friendly Fire' protocol is now disabled," the tank announced. "Friendly forces may now be targeted by Auto-lock."

"Yes!" Church cheered then gasped, "Wait, no! That doesn't sound right…"

But by then, Caboose had leapt off the roof and climbed into the tank. As the engine started, Sheila turned her attention to her driver. "Hello and thank you for activating the M808V Main Battle Tank. You may call me Sheila."

Caboose started at the voice before realizing where it was coming from. "Hello… Sheila," he murmured meekly. "Big tank lady."

"Would you like me to run the tutorial program?" Sheila asked politely.

"Sheila, what are you talking about?" Church shouted. "Forget what I just said."

But Sheila wasn't listening. "This program is intended to instruct non-certified personnel in the use of this Scorpion-Class tank. Let's begin with some driving."

"Wait!" Church called out as she drove away. "Oh my God, no!" He set off after the tank in hot pursuit.

"I was built by an American automotive company," Sheila explained to Caboose as she drove, "and I was assembled in Mexico."

Twenty feet behind her, Church was running as fast as he could, yelling, "No no no no no no no no no no!"

But again, his stiff body slowed him down, so that by the time he'd caught up with Sheila, she had already reached the cliffs, and he could only watch helplessly from the bushes as she fired at his past self. "OH NO! _I'm_ the team-killing fucktard!"

At that moment, Tucker called down to Caboose, "You shot Church, you team-killing fucktard!"

Sheila then turned her turret towards the Red Base. "New target acquired," she announced as she drove off.

On the cliff, Tucker looked up from his late leader and ran along the cliffs towards the rookie. "Caboose, wait!"

Future Church meanwhile ran up to his body and grabbed his sniper rifle. "Ah there we go. Now at least I can pick off that pink guy without getting too close to anybody." He then watched as the Pelican-Class ship that carried Sarge swooped out of the sky and dropped bombs into the canyon, taking out Sheila and narrowly missing Caboose.

Then he heard a groan from behind him. "What happened?"

Church turned round to see his ghostly past self staring at his corpse in confusion. "I can see my body." He then looked up and frowned. "I see two of my bodies. Am I dead?"

"Uhh, uh-oh," Church muttered. "Um, let's just put it this way: You were killed because someone very close to you is an idiot."

"So I _am_ dead?" his ghost yelled. "Ah, that blows man!" He then looked out into the distance. "Wait… I see a light. Should I go into it?"

"What light?" Church asked, looking too. "I don't see a light. You must be shaken up from the explosion. You should probably rest."

"Farewell, my body," the past Church called out, slowly fading away. "I shake loose these earthly bonds for a better existence…"

"Man," Church sighed. "First I kill myself, then I realize I'm a honking dork… Not a very good day to be me."

Just then, he heard Tucker's voice call out, "One second, Caboose, I wanna get Church's sniper rifle."

"Uh oh," Church gulped and quickly ran for it.

Tucker then arrived and searched his leader's body. "Oh crap, it's gone," he scowled. "Man I'm so fucking unlucky. Come on, Caboose, let's go call Command."

"Um… Shouldn't we bury Church?" Caboose asked as Tucker rejoined him.

"Fuck that," the blackened Spartan retorted. "Has he ever buried us?"

Meanwhile at the Red Base, Sarge had confiscated Grif's weapons for his terrible lack of judgment that had resulted in the Warthog's destruction. As Simmons chuckled at his fellow Spartan's glum face, Donut appeared round the corner, carrying the flag over his shoulder. "Hey, since I captured the flag, do you think they'll give me my own color armor now?"

"What do you mean 'captured'?" Simmons asked in puzzlement. "You thought you were buying it at the store, you idiot."

"Still, you think there's a shot?" Donut persevered.

Simmons then gave an evil laugh. "Maybe they'll give you Grif's armor since he destroyed the Warthog."

"Yeah," Grif chuckled then his face fell. "Wait, you don't… you don't think they do that, do you?" he murmured, knowing that the only way someone else got your armor was if you were killed in action.

At that moment at the Blue Base, Tex had arrived and was already heading for the Red Base. "Where are you going?" Tucker called out.

Tex stopped and pointed to the other side of the canyon. "Red Base," she told them in her disguised voice. "Kill everybody. Get the flag back."

As the Freelancer set off again, Caboose called out, "Oh… Okay! We'll just stay here and guard the trans… porter."

"Yeah, you do that, wimps," Tex chuckled to herself in her normal voice.

Meanwhile, Church had hidden behind a rock in front of the Red Base and was looking around through the sniper scope. "Man, I've really gotta find that pink guy," he muttered, watching Grif, Simmons and the still red-armored Donut keeping watch on the roof. "Where the hell is he?"

Donut smiled at his teammates. "The best thing about the military is all the cool stuff I'm seeing for the first time."

"Yeah, that's great," Grif muttered.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement flashed past Church's view. "What the…?" he cried out. "What was that?"

On the roof, Donut yawned, stretched his arms and folded them behind his head. "Yeah, there wasn't a lot to do back in the old farm. Just sit back, think about things, and then repress those thoughts immediately…"

"Doesn't this guy ever shut up?" Simmons groaned.

"Yeah, I'm wondering the same thing," Grif agreed.

And that was when Tex struck. From his hiding place, Church watched as she took out Donut with a plasma grenade then knocked out Grif while Simmons fainted with shock. He then spotted Sarge and Lopez as they watched Tex run into the Base and then ran in after her. "Oh shit… Tex, don't go in there!"

But then Grif and Simmons recovered and set off inside. "Urgh, I gotta do somethin'," Church muttered, dropping the sniper and running off into the Base.

Once inside, he crept towards the brig as quietly as a mouse wearing slippers and peeked cautiously round the door to see Tex surrounded by the Reds.

"Simmons, Grif, you watch the prisoner," Sarge ordered. "Lopez and I will go topside and watch for a secondary attack. Simmons, if she attacks you, whistle twice and we'll know to come down and help. If she attacks Grif, just mild applause will do fine."

"Yes Sir," Simmons replied.

Church quickly ducked into the shadows as Sarge and Lopez ran out then looked in again as Simmons locked Tex in a cell.

Grif nodded at Tex's empty guns and defused plasma grenades. "Not so tough now that we unloaded your weapons, are ya?"

"Hey, punk," Tex growled. "I don't need a weapon to kill you."

"Yeah, right," Grif snorted. "What're you gonna do, _punch me?_"

At once, Tex stepped forward and raised her fist. She didn't swing it out but it was enough to make Grif flinch and cover his visor. "Aaah, not the face!" Tex then lowered her fist and chuckled to herself, and Church stifled his giggles.

Simmons looked towards the door. "Did you hear that?"

Just then, Grif received Sarge's orders to get up on the roof and he ran out, just missing Church as he ducked back in the shadows.

On the roof of Red Base, Grif kept a look out with the sniper while Lopez spray-painted a bull's-eye on his back armor. "I don't see any- Uh-oh," he said as he spotted a black figure run across the gulch. "Yep, there's one." He kept watching as the figure stopped next to a rock and stared right at it. "Why is he just standing there?"

From behind a nearby hill, the blackened Tucker called out to his teammate, "Caboose, get behind the rock. They can still see you."

"They can't see me," the ash-covered Caboose retorted. "I can't see them!"

"That's because you're facing the rock," Tucker groaned, visor-palming himself.

Caboose turned round and spotted the Base. "Oh, right," he realized and scurried behind the rock and as he did, he spotted Church's discarded sniper. "Look, a telemascope!"

Inside the Base, Church hid again as Sarge returned to the brig, acting quite unlike his usual gruff self. He then watched as Sarge knocked out Simmons, opened Tex's cell then jerked in alarm as Church's past self came out and quickly explained things to Tex before hopping back in and leading her out.

"Oh that's right," Future Church realized, stepping into the prison. "That Red guy was me when I came to rescue Tex. And then we walked outside and-" He stopped as the memory came back. "Oh no."

Just then, Simmons stood up, rubbing his head. "What happened?" he groaned. "Oh man, the back of my head is killing me!"

"Yeah, that's great," Church muttered then he punched the Red right in the face.

"Ow, geez, the front of my face!" Simmons yelped as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Church then ran to the Base's entrance just in time to see Sarge get shot in the head and slump to the ground. "You gotta be kidding me!" he cried out, at the same time as his past self.

"Tucker did it!" Caboose called out.

Several more unsuccessful attempts followed and soon Tex had repaired Sheila and was now attacking the Red Base.

Just then, Donut, now dressed in pink armor, ran up the other ramp and spotted the others hiding. "Hey, what're you guys doing up there?" he shouted, as four sniper rounds flew over his head.

"Oh my God," Church yelled as he reloaded. "How did I _miss?_"

"That chick in black armor's back!" Grif yelped.

"What chick?" Donut cried out, as Church continued missing him horribly. "The one that stuck the grenade to my head?"

"GOD DAMMIT!" Church screamed.

"That's the one," Simmons replied.

"Ohohoho, I've been waiting for this!" Donut grabbed a plasma grenade from his belt, pushed past Church in Lopez's body and ran up to the edge of the Base. "Hey bitch!" he yelled. "Remember me? I saved something for you!" And he hurled the grenade with all his strength.

All eyes in Blood Gulch watched spellbound as the grenade flew across the sky in a gentle arc and Church fired at it, yelling out between each miss, "Fuck, SHIT, _HORSE, __**SHIT**__!_"

"Man, that girl's got a really good arm," Tucker muttered in amazement.

By then, Tex was just one shot away from blowing up the ammo depot when the grenade slipped through the canopy and landed on her lap. "Aw, crap!"

"Hell, yeah!" Donut cheered. "Three points, you dirty whore!"

As his words echoed across the canyon, Church tossed the sniper aside in disgust. "Alright, that's it, I quit," he moaned, running towards the cliffs. "I'm going to live in a cave."

As he ran, the grenade blew up and his past self, still in Lopez's body, cried out, "¡Dios mío, nooo!"

On the cliff, Caboose spotted the cobalt blue figure running towards the other side. "That looks like Church." He then activated his helmet radio. "Come in, Church. Is that you, Church?"

But all he heard in response was a loud beeping followed by a sinister laughing…

* * *

**Wow, changing history is never as easy as it looks, huh?**


	13. Episode 50 Part 2

**Here's Episode 51 and we continue Church's crazy journey in his own past.**

* * *

Chapter 13: Episode 50 Part 2

Six weeks after the death of Tex, Caboose and Tucker were finally able to turn off the Spanish setting in Church's new body and they recovered his corpse from the cliff and Tex's body and buried them at the back of the base.

Tucker planted two simple wooden headstones over the graves and Church placed Tex's chain around one before stepping back next to his teammates. "Uh, maybe somebody should say something."

"Okay, go ahead," Tucker replied.

"_Not me_, jackass," Church snarled. "I'm not gonna eulogize myself!"

"What, why not?" Tucker asked. "I eulogize myself _all the time_… Wait, I think I don't know what the word eulogize means."

"Wait, I know how to do this," Caboose said, stepping forward.

"No shut him up, seriously," Church groaned.

Caboose cleared his throat and spoke in a deep voice, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining together of Tex and Church in… eternalness together. Uh, speak now or forever rest in peace… with liberty and justice for all! The end."

"Man, this funeral is laaaame," Tucker sighed. "If you need me, I'll be over by my rock."

"Hey, Tucker," Church said. "Can I have a piggy-back ride back to Base?"

"Oh, no, no, no, no," Tucker retorted. "I fell for that shit last time, I'm not doing that. That suit is like eight thousand pounds!"

"Come on," Church persisted. "One more piggy-back ride's not gonna kill ya. I'm in mourning here."

Tucker groaned, bent down and let Church climb on his back. As he stood up and struggled towards the Base, Church then added, "When we get there, help me paint my body blue."

Sometime later, after the arrival of Doc, the fight and the negotiations, Church's future self came out of hiding. "Okay," he muttered to himself. "I may not have been able to save myself or Tex, but I still have time to save everybody else if I can just keep the AI from getting into Doc, prevent Lopez and Sheila from forming their Robot Army, and somehow figure out a way to stop the war between the Reds and the Blues all together." He sat down on a rock to think. "Hmmm, what if I… Yeah, I'm gonna need some help on this one."

He waited outside the Base until Tucker and his past self were distracted with finding the controls for Lopez's repair sequence and slipped into the Base where he began his search. "Where the hell is that contact info for Blue Command?" he muttered. "We really need to standardize the way we handle our information."

Outside, Tucker had found something on Past Church's crotch. "Naw dude, it's more like a… switch."

"Well, give it a flip," Church told him.

Tucker jumped back to his feet nervously. "I don't wanna flip it."

Meanwhile, Future Church had found written instructions labeled 'Cabose's Importent Lists of Stuf' and glanced over it until he found Command's number. "Okay, here we go."

He quickly memorized it and then made his way to the main computer where he dialled the number on the radio-phone. "Come in, Blue Command, do you read me?"

"Hello, hello, come in, do you read me, do I read you?" Vic's voice replied through some static. "Hello, can you read me, what's going on, it's a secure channel here, come on."

"Uh, yeah," Church muttered. "This is uh, Flowers, this is Captain Butch Flowers."

"Hey, Captain Flowers, how're you doing, dude?" Vic called out cheerily. "Hey I heard you died… or you got promoted, wait a minute, which one was it?"

"Um… promoted," Church replied.

"Alright, great dude," Vic said admirably. "How's that working out for you?"

"Good," Church replied and quickly changed the subject. "Listen up, Vic, I'm actually uh… whaddaya call it, um intelligence now, military intelligence, yeah. And I uh, I need help on a very top secret project, uh, that's very secret… and very top."

"I'm all yours, dude. Me Vic dude es tu Vic dude, in a ditideepti and all that."

"Here's what I need you to do. I need you to contact the Red Army and have them send Medical Officer DuFresne as far away from here as possible."

"_Red_ Army?" Vic sounded puzzled. "No, no, dude, last transmission I received, that medic was at Blue Base. Got it right here in my log, no pun intended… not sure what that means."

"Look, it doesn't matter where he is," Church snapped impatiently. "I just need him outta here… They're both the same to me."

Vic was silent for a moment then he said, "Hello, dude, you're telling me that Red and Blue are the same now in Blood Gulch?"

"Right, exactly, the sides don't matter."

"Huh, so Red and Blue are the same. Okay, dude, well that changes everything."

"What?"

"Well, I mean for starters, we're gonna have to figure out how to divide up the money from the office pool…"

"Okay, okay, yeah, whatever," Church interrupted. "Just remember: This is top secret, so you can't let _anybody_ know that I gave you these instructions, okay? Or that we even spoke, don't even tell them that we talked together, you got it?"

"I will precede accordingly, dude," Vic replied. "Mum is the word… Actually, bird is the word but the bird says mum, so we're gonna go with that. Over and out, dude." And the line went dead.

Church sighed and dusted his hands off. "Well, that should take care of at least one of our problems."

At his console, Vic scratched his head in deep thought. "So… Red and Blue are the same. Well, I gotta make some phone calls."

Meanwhile, Church made his way towards the main entrance but then he heard Simmons' voice call out, "What the hell are you guys doing?"

He reached the entrance and spotted Simmons and Grif standing outside the Base… with Doc right next to them. "Oh what the hell?" he groaned. "Vic just had 'em bring Doc back over here? That guy's a fricking moron. Now I'm back to square one!"

Church waited a little longer until the Blues were busy with other matters. As he slipped past, he could hear his ghostly past self shouting, "Guys, I keep telling you, if we have Lopez remove any of Sheila's pedals, she's not gonna function properly."

"Maybe we could just get Lopez to give Caboose more feet," Tucker replied.

"Oh, I like that idea!" Caboose agreed. "I have always wanted to be taller."

With a shake of his head, Future Church slipped round the corner to where Sheila and the cobalt-colored Lopez were waiting around talking to each other.

"Hey there, Lopez, Sheila," he called out as he approached. "You're both looking… uh, very shiny today, uh, rust-free and…" He cleared his throat. "Anyway, the reason I'm up here to talk to you guys is… I know we had our differences in the past, you know with the uh, the nut turning and the um, possessing and stuff like that, but I'm hoping we could put that behind us 'cause I wanna talk to you about maybe some crazy ideas you might be having up here, like I dunno, say uh, starting your own robot army?"

Lopez and Sheila glanced at each other in confusion as Church began to pace in front of them. "And you know, it-it's something you should think about pretty seriously if you're thinking about doing it, um because it's hard to run an army and you might not be aware that it's uh… it's a lot of logistics, a lot of rhetoric um, you know it's uh, you gotta have chain of command and that stuff, you know, it's uh when you have ranks it, it puts friends against each other, that's not always a good thing."

He turned to look at them. "'Cause it might seem easy with only three people, even when those people are just robots-" He scowled at his error and hastily added, "I don't mean, I don't mean _just_ robots, I mean, three, you have three uh people, that are mechanized people- mechanized-Americans un and then, you know, it's uh… Anyway you shouldn't do it. Bye…" And he ran off across the canyon.

Lopez watched him leave then he turned to the tank. "No confío en ese mamón. Se parece muy sospechoso." (I don't trust that guy. He seems shifty.)

"Me neither," Sheila agreed. "But I have to admit, I liked his Robot Army idea."

"Yo también. Debemos hacer eso." Lopez rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Podría construir un machina que vuela para un hombre con los lanzadores del cohete de las pieza adicionales." (Me too. We should do that. I could build a one-man flying vehicle with rocket launchers using the extra parts we have.)

"Great idea," Sheila replied. "Let's hide it in the cave so they won't find it."

"Sí núm," Lopez nodded. (Agreed.)

In the canyon, Church stopped and took a deep breath. "Well, that felt good," he sighed. "I think we really connected. Now, what am I gonna do about those teleporters?"

He made his way to the Red Base and climbed onto the roof. As he set to work on the teleporter, he could hear Donut talking to Grif by the upturned Warthog. "I know it was Tuesday because that's the day I wash my underwear. And since I don't like to let my armor touch my bare skin, on account of I chafe _really_ easily, I remember thinking 'where can I hang out with no pants on?'"

"_Oh God!_" Grif cried out in horror.

"Jesus, what's that guy babbling about down there?" Church muttered as he worked. "And I thought _Tucker_ was annoying. Okay concentrate, just one more adjustment to make on this teleporter and then we're done…"

Suddenly the Base started shaking and Church looked round to see the tank rolling towards them. "Oh hey look, here comes Sheila and Lopez. Oh, they sure are coming fast… Hey, they don't even seem to be stopping…" He suddenly remembered Tucker's story of how he couldn't work out how to stop Sheila in time. "Uh oh!"

Just then, Sheila slammed into the side of the Warthog, crushing Grif and smashing it into the side of the Base with a loud CRASH!

"YOOWWWW!" Church was flung backwards off the roof and crashed into the side of the cliff before rolling down with a groan. As he lost consciousness, the last thing he heard was a loud buzzing as the teleporter short-circuited…

Sometime later, Church awoke with an aching feeling in his body. "Oh, what the hell happened?" he muttered, staggering to his feet. "Where am I? _When_ am I?"

He then spotted the Reds marching out of the Base and set off after them discreetly. He reached the middle of the canyon and spotted the Blues on the other side and Sheila and Lopez by one of the cliffs. Then he heard himself yelling at Tucker, "Okay, fine, _Triangle_ of Confusion, Rhombus of Terror, Parabola of Mystery; WHO CARES? Get the God damn show on the road!"

"Oh no, the Parabola of Mystery!" he cried out. "That means any second now, Tucker's gonna get shot by O'Malley and then all hell's gonna break loose! Unless…"

He made a quick scan of the canyon around the three armies. Then, just as Sarge and Tucker began their respective shouts, he spotted a discarded rocket launcher lying nearby and ran over to pick it up. "God, I can't believe the Reds have this kind of hardware lying around and they're not even using it."

He looked through the targeting system and spotted Doc/O'Malley approaching the middle of the canyon on his stolen flying scooter. "Ah there he is," he hissed. "You're mine now, buddy."

He fired a rocket right at the scooter but it went wide and flew towards Tucker from behind. "It's all a- WAAAAAAAGHHH!" he yelled as he was sent flying. "Son of a bitch!"

"What the hell?" Church screamed, throwing the launcher aside. "The targeting system on this thing doesn't work at all! Oh, so maybe that's why the Reds don't use it. That makes sense now."

Just then, he heard Donut cry out, "Oh my God, it's the _Cave Devil!_ _Run for your lives!_"

As Doc/O'Malley opened fire on the Reds, Blues and Robots, Church let out a sigh and ran back to his cave. "Maybe I'll just sit this one out. I'm pretty sure I know how it ends…"

* * *

**Unfortunately, so do we. Things aren't going too well for him…**


	14. Have We Met?

**Episode 52 now brings us a confusing conclusion to Church's travels.**

* * *

Chapter 14: Have We Met?

Some hours after O'Malley's attack, Church left his cave and made his way towards the Red Base. _Okay, I got one last chance to save them. All I need to do is to stop the bomb in me from going off. How hard could that be?_ As he reached the Base, he spotted Tex, Tucker and Donut on the roof, preparing to make the jump to Sidewinder.

"Good luck, everyone, take care," Sheila called up to them. "I packed you all lunches for the trip."

"Thanks, Sheila," Tucker said kindly. "That was really nice of you."

"Not really," Donut muttered, holding up a small component. "All _my_ bag had was an air filter and a thermos full of brake fluid."

As Tex jumped into the teleporter, Sheila said her goodbyes. "Make sure to wash your exhaust pipes every day."

"Bye, Sheila," Tucker called out as Donut ran in. "We'll come back for you soon."

"I'll be waiting," Sheila promised as Tucker followed the others.

With them gone, Church quickly leapt out of hiding and ran onto the roof, making Sheila roll back in surprise. "Church! I thought you left with Grif. Back already?"

"I hate to tell you this, Sheila, but none of us are comin' back." Church typed some quick recalculations on the teleporter. "Is there any way I can take you with me? Maybe transfer your program into a disk or something?"

"No," Sheila replied sadly. "Sorry, but I'm hardwired into this equipment. That's what happens when you're built by the lowest bidder."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Church muttered. "There's just one more thing you can do for me before I say goodbye. It's the last thing I can do to hopefully set all this stuff right."

Sheila rolled closer eagerly. "What is it?"

"Okay, here's what I need you to do…" He knelt next to Sheila's turret and whispered his plan. "_I need you to get out there and I need you to wait off a real fricking wait, give it a thousand years or something, and then send a call._"

"Alright, you got it," Sheila replied.

"Thanks, Sheila." Church stood up and stepped towards the teleporter then he turned back with a sigh. "And uh, I'm sorry that I blamed you for killing me all this time."

"That's okay," Sheila sighed, lowering her turret in shame. "I'm sorry I enjoyed blowing you up so much."

"Yeah, I'm not sure it was necessary to tell me that. Anyway, I guess this is goodbye, Sheila." And with that, Church set off into the teleporter.

Now Sheila was all alone in the canyon. "Maybe I should shut down now and save a little power," she decided and so she switched herself off. And thus silence fell upon the little box canyon known as Blood Gulch, a silence that would last for the next few hundred years…

Meanwhile, Church arrived at Sidewinder inside the Red Base and made his way down to the brig just in time to see Wyoming abandon his past self and Grif in the jail cell. He could hear a loud ticking and he immediately realized that the bomb inside his past self was already armed. "Man, there is _no way_ Grif can disarm the bomb," he hissed to himself. "I better let him out of there and then go find Tex. She can shut it off."

He grabbed one of the dead guards and dragged him down the passageway to the cell's control panel. As he heard himself tell Grif of his plan to escape, he placed the guard's hand on the handprint scanner, opening the cell.

Down below, Grif stared in disbelief. "You opened the doors? That wasn't scary at all."

"What? I didn't do that. Somebody on the outside must have done it." Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Past Church ran out the cell, grabbed his assault rifle and tossed a pistol over to Grif. "Alright, let's go!"

"Freedom, it smells so sweet!" Grif cheered as they ran out of the Base. "Let's go rob a liquor store on the way home."

With a smile, Future Church slipped out after them then ran towards the cliff. "Alright, now to find Tex…"

But what Church didn't know was that Tex had been captured by O'Malley and was now being tied to a tree by the fiendish Wyoming. "Sorry about this, Allison, just following Omega's orders," the bounty hunter told her. Tex scowled and kicked out at him, narrowly missing his legs.

"**Wyoming, I need you to get in position,**" O'Malley then instructed. "**Don't forget that Vic fellow is giving us a bonus if we kill Tucker. It would really help fuel the whole 'conspiracy theory' he's made up.**"

"Right-o, mate." Wyoming grabbed his sniper rifle and ran for the nearest icy peak.

As O'Malley set off to rejoin Lopez, Doc cried out, "As the one person here who really _does_ work for Red and Blue, I think what we're doing is despicable! O'Malley, can't you look in your heart and see that maybe if we do this right, then Red and Blue could work together? Maybe we could _end_ this crazy war. Wouldn't that be great? Come on, guys, let's live the dream!"

"**I like the way wars end now,**" O'Malley argued. "**When one side's completely dead, and the other side wasting away in nucular winter-**"

"It's pronounced 'nuclear'."

"**Oh shut up! –Crying at the folly of their own hubris!**"

"Wars also end in treaties!" Doc yelled.

"**Oh, shut up already!**" O'Malley snapped.

Nearby, Church had reached a good position on the cliff for spying on the Reds and Blues as they fought against O'Malley and the elements, and he turned on his radio. "Come in, Tex. I need you to meet me in the middle of the canyon, right now." But no response came. "This is Church. Uh, I have money." He sighed and switched off the radio. "Oh man, where is she?"

"Psst, hey, buddy! _Hey!_"

"Huh?" Church turned at that voice and his jaw dropped in amazement as he saw himself standing next to a rock. "Who are you?"

"Huh? Oh I'm you," the new Church replied. "I'm just a different version of you. You see, I keep trying to fix the bomb, just like you're doing, except I don't do it right and I get blasted back in time. Then I come back and try to fix everything all over again. I just wanna let you know, when you get back, meet us at the top of the ramp." And then he ran off.

"Us, who's us?" Church called out. "Back from where? What's goin' on?"

"Five seconds!" Simmons' voice echoed across the canyon.

With a gasp, Church slid down the cliff and ran towards the teams just as Tucker raised the rocket launcher to his past self.

Suddenly, a shot rang out and the rocket launcher was ripped right out of Tucker's hands. "What the hell?"

Everybody looked up to see Wyoming standing on an icy peak, holding a smoking sniper rifle in his hands. "Sorry, Private Tucker, but I always get my man." He pointed his gun at Tucker's head. "Say goodbye, mate."

Just then, a loud bleeping noise rang out and Simmons gulped in alarm. "Uh guys, I hate to interrupt but… zero seconds."

All eyes turned to Past Church as the bleeping grew louder, faster and higher in pitch. "Uh oh," Tucker murmured.

"What?" Church asked before he felt a strange grumbling feeling in his stomach. "Oh, son of a-"

KABOOOOOOOOMMMMM!

This time, Church didn't end up as far back in time as the first time. As he came to outside the complex, he made his way back to the generator room in time to see himself get teleported away then he ran up to Gary. "Computer, you've got to send me back!"

Gary looked confused. "TO BLOOD GULCH? YOU JUST LEFT."

"No, no, no, not to Blood Gulch, to Sidewinder!" Church cried. "Man, I _totally_ screwed everything up!"

"HOW?" Gary asked.

"Well I didn't keep the bomb from going off," Church replied. "So I just got blasted back here."

"Yeah, me too."

Church whirled round to see another Church standing beside him. "What the…?"

The new Church gave a nervous smile as another Church popped into existence then another and another then two more and then ten more. "Let me put this way, pal," he replied as more and more Churches started appearing. "Your next plan… goes about as well as the first one does."

Gary gulped in alarm. "UH OH."

And so it was that Church made it to the ramp at Sidewinder and found a thousand other Churches talking among themselves. "What the hell is all of this?"

The other Churches turned round. "Oh here he is, late again," one Church sighed.

"Who are you guys?" the first Church cried out.

"We're you, _dumbass_," the second Church scowled. "We just keep screwing up and getting blown back to the computer terminal then we teleport back here to try again."

"I know that man," another Church yelled. "You told me last time."

"I'm not talking to _you,_" the second Church snapped. "I'm talking to the _new_ you!"

"Oh, right," the third Church muttered sheepishly. "I'm sorry about that; I'm still getting used to all this."

"Dumbass," a fourth Church hissed.

"Hey shut up," the third Church retorted.

"How did all you guys screw up?" the first Church asked curiously.

"Well," the second Church replied. "When Tucker points the rocket launcher at us, I tried to explain the situation to everybody, and oddly, Caboose was really the only person who understood it right away. Anyway, by the time I finished answering questions, the bomb went off and I got sent back in time."

"Right," the third Church agreed. "Then I teleported _back_ to Sidewinder and thought, if I could shoot Wyoming before he shoots Tucker, then I can fix everything. But I shot Wyoming, then Tucker shot me with the rocket launcher, the bomb went off anyway and I got sent back in time."

"Yeah," the fourth Church confirmed. "And then I teleported back, and just decided to kill everybody that I could see."

"Why did you do that?" the first Church yelled flabbergasted.

"I dunno, seemed like fun," the fourth Church muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I went a little nuts there for a while."

The first Church then turned to a Church wearing yellow armor. "Well, what did you do?"

"Dude, don't ask," the yellow Church groaned. "Trust me, it didn't work."

"So now," the second Church concluded, "we all come back here _beforehand_ to discuss what we did, and see if we can collectively come up with a better plan beforehand."

"You said beforehand twice," a fifth Church pointed out.

"Oh," the first Church said simply. "Well, in that case, what I was thinking about doing was-"

"That won't work!" the other Churches yelled in unison.

The first Church looked crestfallen for a moment then he suddenly snapped his fingers. "Hey, I got it! Who's the last Church?"

"Huh?" ten Churches asked at once.

"Which one of you is the latest version of me?" the first Church explained.

The other Churches muttered among themselves then in the middle of the crowd, a hand was raised. "Um, I guess that would be me."

All the Churches parted to let the one with the raised hand step forward. "I've already tried all the stuff that all these other guys have done, even him…" He pointed to a ghostly Church. "So I guess that makes me the latest version."

"Well," the first Church decided. "That must mean you're the one that gets it right."

"What do you mean?" Church #1000 asked.

"Well, if you're the last Church, you must be the one that fixes everything. Otherwise, there'd be a thousand other Churches here still trying to get it right."

Church #1000 rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Huh, I see…"

"Wait, why am I explaining this to you?" the first Church realized. "If you're the latest Church, then you've been me, explaining this to you already."

"Uh, yeah, I know," Church #1000 admitted, rubbing his arm in embarrassment. "I just didn't wanna steal my own thunder. I thought it was a pretty good idea."

"Thanks!" the other 999 Churches replied.

"Okay," Church #1000 said tensely. "Well, I'm gonna go do whatever it is that fixes all this. Wish me luck, guys."

"What're you gonna do?" the first Church called out.

Church #1000 stopped at the top of the ramp and turned round. "You know what? I'm just gonna go free Tex and wing it. 'Cause every time I've made a plan, it's fallen apart. I figure, why not just improvise?" And he set off down the hall towards his destiny.

The first Church then turned back to the yellow Church. "So, what _did_ you do?"

"Oh, man," the yellow Church sighed dismally. "It seemed like such a good idea at the time…"

Meanwhile, Church #1000 made his way along the cliff to where Tex was tied up, but when he got there, he saw that one of his past selves had already reached her.

"Church!" Tex called out. "O'Malley and Wyoming tied me up. Get me outta here!"

"You got it." Church #983 reached for the ropes then he paused. "Wait a second, would this be a good thing or a bad thing?"

"How is setting me free a bad thing?" Tex asked crossly.

"I'm not sure. If I set you free, will you promise not to get close to me?"

"I'm already close to you."

"No, no, not me me; the other me me; the one with the bomb."

"What?"

"Oh right, I forgot," Church #1000 recalled, running up behind his past self. "I already _set_ Tex free one of the other times. _Oh sweet_, then that means I'm the guy that interrupts me, and then confuses Tex!"

Tex glanced between the two Churches. "I'm totally confused."

"Oh don't worry, Tex," Church #1000 reassured. "I'm just supposed to tell _him_ that it's okay to set Tex free."

"It is?" Church #983 asked.

"Well, that's what I said to me when I was you," the other Church replied with a shrug. "And it seemed to work out okay."

"Seriously, this is really confusing," Tex muttered as Church #983 set to work on the ropes.

"Okay, you're free, Tex." He then turned and rubbed his hands in anticipation. "Now to execute the second part of my plan: I'm gonna possess Lopez and then use his lightning machine to defuse the bomb. See ya!" And he set off along the cliffs.

"Good luck!" Church #1000 called out then he sighed. "Yeah, that's totally not gonna work." He then turned to his ex-girlfriend. "Tex, I recommend you get down there and try to defuse the bomb that's in Church's stomach. I think you're about the only one here that can do it."

Tex nodded and turned to go but then Church grabbed her shoulder and turned her back round. "And Tex? The one thing I didn't realize before was this. Maybe I'm the last Church not because I fix everything, but because I died and there's no way I can come back. And if that happens…" He sighed and bowed his head sadly. "I just wanna let you know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got you mixed up in all this stupid stuff. I'm sorry I wasn't a better guy than I should've been. I'm sorry for… well, for a lot of stuff." Then he looked up with a grin on his face. "But if we _do_ survive this, then it's totally because of me, and you should build a fucking statue in my honor!"

Tex rolled her eyes and set off down the cliff. "I'm serious!" Church called out. "Something cool; like me on a horse! No, no, no, wait, a _motorcycle!_"

Just then, he heard himself screaming in alarm as the lightning bolt hit his past self and he knew he didn't have much time. He slid off the cliff and ran towards the teams.

As he approached, a shot rang out and the rocket launcher was ripped right out of Tucker's hands. "What the hell?"

Everybody looked up to see Wyoming standing on an icy peak, holding a smoking sniper rifle in his hands. "Sorry, Private Tucker, but I always get my man." He pointed his gun at Tucker's head. "Say goodbye, mate."

Just then, a loud bleeping noise rang out and Simmons gulped in alarm. "Uh guys, I hate to interrupt but… zero seconds."

All eyes turned to Past Church as the bleeping grew louder, faster and higher in pitch. "Uh oh," Tucker murmured.

Behind them, Future Church ran up and Caboose turned to look round. "Church!"

"What can I tell you, dipshit?" Church replied with a shrug. "For better or for worse, I'm back!"

And that's when the bomb went off, and this time Church was blown into the future…

…Where at this moment, the others were still trapped in the building with the bomb showing one minute left.

"We're all gonna die, starting with Grif!" Sarge cried out in fear. "Everyone get ready to kiss yer ass goodbye! Simmons, you can have the honor of kissing mine."

"Hey everybody, what's up?" a voice called out just then.

The Reds, Tucker and Caboose whirled round to see a shiny, cobalt blue-armored soldier standing outside the broken shutter, a big smile on his face.

"Church!" Caboose cried out joyfully. "I am so happy that you made it in time to die with me. We will get to be smithereens together!"

"That won't be necessary, Caboose," Church chuckled then he called out, "Hey Gary, how ya doing?"

Behind them, the computer let out a buzz and then a glowing sky-blue graphed face appeared on the screen. "NOT BAD, ALTHOUGH MY STATIC ION SUB-MATRIX IS A LITTLE ITCHY."

Everyone except Church jumped and stared at Gary in amazement.

"The computer can talk?" Simmons gasped.

"The computer's name is _Gary?_" Grif added.

Gary then spotted the Blue leader and smiled. "HOW HAVE YOU BEEN, CHURCH?"

"Good, thanks for asking," Church replied. "Listen; would you do me a favor? Could you shut off the bomb please?"

"NO PROBLEM," Gary answered with a nod.

Nearby the bomb was counting down the seconds; 0:03, 0:02, 0:01… and then it switched off.

"Garr!" Sarge cried out. "You mean to tell me you could have turned off the bomb this whole time, and you didn't say so? And don't say I didn't-"

"YOU DIDN'T ASK," Gary interrupted.

"Oh, firkin derglers," Sarge grumbled crossly.

With the bomb off, Gary opened the gates and shutters, allowing Church to enter and rejoin his friends. "Man, it is really great to see you guys."

"You seem like you're in a good mood," Tucker noted.

"I learned a very valuable lesson in my travels, Tucker," Church replied. "No matter how bad things might seem-"

"They could be worse," Caboose finished.

"Nope, no matter how bad they seem, they can't be any better, and they can't be any worse, because that's the way things fucking are, and you better get used to it, Nancy. Quit your bitching."

"Where have you been?" Caboose asked.

"You want the long version or the short version?" Church replied with a laugh.

"I will take the easy version please," Caboose answered.

"Oh I wanna hear the long version," Tucker added. "But can you tell me in three parts?"

* * *

**Why not, that's how we got here.**


	15. Let's Come to Order

**After the last crazy episodes, Episode 53 returns us to normality (if you can call it that).**

* * *

Chapter 15: Let's Come to Order

With the danger gone, the Reds went back outside to the Warthog Mk 2 and Church told his team the tales of his adventures in time, leaving out his attempts to fix everything for his own benefit. Then Tucker told him the story of their siege of O'Malley's fortress, finishing off with how he found the energy sword.

"You found this thing where?" Church asked when he'd finished.

"Right up there," Tucker replied, pointing with the sword to the windmill on the inner wall.

Caboose meanwhile was thinking over Church's story. "So… you went back in time and didn't change... anything?"

"Uh, yeah," Church replied. "I was just like… a passive observer."

"Hmmm," Caboose muttered. "I would have tried to save your life… from me!"

"Yeah, I didn't think of that," Church said hastily before turning to his teal teammate. "Hey Tucker, I don't think it's a good idea that you're keeping that thing."

"You're just pissed because you don't have one," Tucker snorted.

"No, you must have me confused with Tex," Church retorted, nodding at the entranced Freelancer. "She's been staring at you non-stop since you found that thing."

Tex kept staring at the sword like a cat would stare at fish in a bowl for a moment before she responded, "That's not true."

"You haven't taken your eyes off it," Church stated.

"Yes I have," Tex argued.

"Then why haven't you looked at me the entire time I've been talkin'?" Church asked knowingly, folding his arms.

"I'm looking at you right now," Tex retorted, her eyes still on the sword.

"No you're not," Church snapped.

"I've already seen you," Tex scowled back angrily. "Not too impressed."

Caboose was still in thought. "I would have tried to save Tex too."

"Well, I didn't, Caboose," Church snapped. "I didn't try to save me, I didn't try to save Tex, and I sure as hell didn't make millions of copies of myself trying to keep the bomb from goin' off!"

"Oh," Caboose replied glumly. "Because, that was my _next_ suggestion."

"Leave me alone, Caboose," Church scowled. "I didn't wanna mess with the timeline."

"Time… _line?_" Caboose scoffed at this. "Time isn't made out of lines. It is made out of circles; that is why clocks are round."

"Man, that thing is really shiny," Tex muttered in a voice like she was hypnotized.

"Yep," Tucker agreed unknowingly.

Church then pulled him aside, away from Tex. "Tucker, man, I still think you should be careful," he advised his teammate. "The computer told me that thing is a very important relic, for some ancient culture. I wouldn't go swinging it around like that."

"Yeah?" Tucker replied. "Well I think it's just a kickass piece of bling. And who're you gonna believe, me or some super-smart, stupid, talking computer?"

Meanwhile, outside the complex, Sarge had gathered Simmons and Grif around the Warthog. "Men, thank you for meeting on short notice… and so covertly."

"No problem," Grif replied nonchalantly. "I had to move my lunch with the Pope, but uh, he was cool with it. He owes me… I helped him pick the hat."

"Shut up," Simmons snapped, seeing through Grif's sarcasm.

Sarge whistled to get his team's attention. "I don't want the Blues finding out about this meeting, so I want us all to agree here and now we're gonna keep this between ourselves."

Grif glanced at Simmons in confusion. "Uh sir, I don't know if you noticed, but we're not exactly buddy-buddy with those guys anyway."

"Eh, I'm not really in the market for new friends," Simmons agreed with a shrug. "I'm not sure that I'm happy with the current crop."

"No offense, Sarge," Grif added knowingly.

Sarge nodded slightly. "Grif, tell us what you discovered on the radio."

Grif looked puzzled. "Me?"

"Um, actually _I'm_ the one who heard the distress signal," Simmons clarified.

Sarge looked slightly embarrassed. "Uh huh, see I thought-"

"Yeah, I can't use the radio," Grif added.

"Yeah," Simmons agreed. "I discovered the distress signal. That was me."

"I don't know how I got that mixed up," Sarge muttered, scratching his head in bafflement.

"It's okay, sir," Simmons comforted. "As long as everyone's clear who heard it first."

"Sorry about that, Simmons," Sarge apologized.

"Why do you care?" Grif asked.

"No really, sir, it's no problem," Simmons reassured his leader. "I think it's important to get proper credit when **some of us** are working hard discovering distress signals, while **others** are hanging out in the back seat, _monkeying about!_"

Grif stared at his teammate in puzzlement. "Okay, first off, monkeying about? Secondly, I don't think listening to the radio classifies as working. And thirdly, _monkeying about?!_ Come on, dude."

"It's a real phrase," Simmons scowled.

"Bullshit. That's what you said about horse-doodling."

"People say it all the time."

"What people?"

"Oh lots of people, all the time. But nobody you would know!"

"No need to get upset, fellas," Sarge cut in, pushing the two soldiers apart. "I think we're all clear now. Simmons is the one who _heard_ the distress signal, and Grif was the one monkeying around."

"About," Simmons corrected.

"Say who now?"

"Monkeying, _about_," Simmons repeated.

"Yeah, people say it all the time, sir," Grif agreed sarcastically. "You'll wanna get it right, otherwise you'll sound like a jackass."

"Can we _please_ get back to the purpose of this meeting?" Sarge yelled.

"Yeah," Grif agreed. "What is the purpose exactly?"

"I wanted Simmons to tell us he heard a distress signal on the radio." Sarge turned to the maroon Spartan. "Okay, go ahead, Simmons."

Simmons looked befuddled. "Um… I heard a distress signal, while listening on the radio."

"I _know_," Grif replied irritably. "I was in the car with you when we heard it. In fact, why are we even having this meeting? Everyone here already knows you heard a distress signal on the radio!"

"I just wanna make sure everyone is on the same page," Sarge explained.

"Same page? There's only one page!" Grif yelled out. "You know what the page says? Simmons heard a Goddamn distress call on the radio, the end!"

"Oh look," Simmons added, pointing at an imaginary page. "Down there on the bottom, it also says: P.S. Grif was monkeying about."

Grif let out a frustrated sigh. "Well, I can see why we don't have lots of meetings. The only person who _doesn't_ know is Donut, and he's not even here!"

"That's because I asked Donut to distract the Blues so we could _have_ this secret meeting," Sarge replied.

And at that moment, Donut was just finishing off one of his tall tales to the Blues while Tex was still staring at Tucker's sword. "…And that's the story of how I saved Christmas!"

"I did not even know the North Pole was in San Francisco," Caboose breathed. "This changes _everything!_"

"Yeah," Tucker muttered unsurely. "And I don't think Santa's suit is a leather biker's outfit."

"Hey, wait a second," Church cried out. "Why are we letting this pink guy distract us?"

"I'm not distracting you," Donut stammered.

"Yeah you are," Church retorted. "While we're sitting here jabbering, the Reds are over there monkeying about!"

As the Blues set off towards the outer wall, Donut turned round and did a fist pump. "Yes!"

* * *

**Oh brother, Donut's a bigger moron than Caboose.**


	16. Hello My Name is Andrew

**Now on Episode 54, we introduce a new character.**

* * *

Chapter 16: Hello My Name is Andrew

On the outer wall of the complex, Tex, Church and Tucker watched as Donut rejoined the Reds who were gathered around the Warthog Mk 2.

"See?" Tex hissed. "They're down there, messing with the radio."

"Oh, so _that's_ what they're doin'," Church said with little surprise.

"Yeah," Tex nodded slowly. "They must be plotting something."

"Or, maybe they're just listening to the radio."

Tex shook her head. "I know plotting when I see it. That's plotting."

"Maybe they're _scheming_," Tucker suggested.

"No, scheming looks different," Tex explained. "That's definitely plotting. They're gonna try something."

"Why?" Tucker asked confused. "I already told them Red and Blue are the same, it's all a conspiracy."

"And I told _you_ that's not true," Church scolded. "Vic just made it up to confuse us."

"That just means he's part of the conspiracy."

"But he's the one that _told you_ Red and Blue are the same!"

"Exactly," Tucker replied knowingly.

Church furrowed his brows in confusion. "Wait, are you talking about a conspiracy that Red and Blue are the same, or a conspiracy that Red and Blue are different?"

"Exactly," Tucker repeated.

"You just keep saying exactly," Church scowled. "Do you have a theory or don't you?"

"Look, I don't care about Red _or_ Blue," Tex cut in crossly. "All I know is that those guys are up to something down there."

Tucker went over to the wall to look. "Maybe they're planning to use the radio to beam secret messages to the fillings in my teeth."

"Secret messages about _what?!_" Church yelled.

"Exactly," Tucker replied and was smacked in the back of the helmet.

"They are probably trying to tune in to the distress signal they heard on the radio," Caboose called from the doorway behind them.

Church turned round to stare at Caboose. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh I know all the details," Caboose replied. "They were in their car, the Boss Hogg, when Simmin heard a distress signal on the radio, and Gruff was in the back seat… with a monkey."

"Hmmm, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that some of that is wrong," Tucker muttered.

"How do you know all this, Caboose?" Church asked intrigued.

"Andy told me," Caboose said.

"Andy? Who's Andy?" Church turned back to Tucker. "Are- Are you Andy?"

"I'm not Andy, I'm Tucker," the teal Spartan replied.

"No, I know, what's your first name?"

"Lavernius."

"Lavernius… Well then, who's this Andy g-" Church stopped and stared at Tucker again. "Wait a second… are you black?"

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Does it matter?"

"No, I'm just curious."

"Well, if it doesn't matter, then why are you curious?"

"I don't know," Church muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess that's just something I should have picked up on after all this time."

Tucker scowled and folded his arms. "You know what else you should have picked up on? My fucking first name!"

Unaware of the argument above, the Reds watched as Simmons replayed the distress signal on the radio.

"Distress, distress, help," the high-pitched nasal voice called out. "We don't need any more distress. Distress, whoa man, it's a lot of distress."

"That's all it says," Simmons said as the message switched off. "It doesn't even say where or who."

"We know who it is," Sarge replied. "It's on the Red Army open channel! That means the Reds have survived to the future. Doncha see what this means?"

Grif gave a heavy sigh and shook his head. "That we have absolutely no hope of ever getting out of this army…"

"No," Sarge retorted. "It means we must have beaten the Blues, otherwise there wouldn't be any Reds left! Finally, victory is ours!" Then he realized something. "Wait a minute, this means I missed the entire war! Aw, dammit!"

"Yeah, everything _must_ be great," Grif pointed out with sarcastic tones. "That's why they sent out _a distress signal_."

"Maybe it's not a distress signal," Donut suggested. "Maybe it's a _dis_tress signal. Maybe it's an open invitation to some formal ball!"

"Oh-kay, let's go with Sarge's version," Grif decided.

Sarge nodded and turned back to his favorite private. "Simmons, have you tracked the source?"

"Well Sir, all I can tell is the direction," Simmons replied. "I have no idea how far it is."

"Why not?" Sarge cried out. "I thought _you_ were our Unofficial Science Officer."

"That just means I'm smart," Simmons clarified. "If you want me to multiply two big numbers in my head, that I can do. But I can't measure radio signals with no equipment!"

Grif scratched his head in thought. "What's 32 times 56?"

"31,452," Simmons replied without pause.

"Is that right?" Sarge asked.

"Yes."

"That's pretty impressive."

Simmons shrugged modestly. "Eh, you know, it's a gift."

Meanwhile, inside the complex, Caboose led Tucker and Tex to where the unexploded bomb was lying. "This is Andy," the dim Blue introduced, nodding at the bomb. "Andy, this is Tucker and Tex. Uh, Tex is the black one and the other black one is Tucker."

Tex and Tucker glanced at each other worryingly.

"Andy's the bomb?" Tucker asked.

"Uh, Andy prefers the term 'Explosive-American'," Caboose replied. **(Air-quote)**

"Are you making fun of me?" Tucker scowled.

Caboose turned back towards the bomb. "He told me all about what the Reds were up to, didn't you Andy?"

The bomb just sat there silently.

"Yes," Caboose said simply. "And then we talked about _all our adventures_. Did you know that he used to know Sheila? Isn't that right, Andy?"

Again, the bomb didn't reply.

Tucker took a few steps back. "Um, Caboose, are you hearing the bomb talk right now?"

"Say something, Andy!" Caboose yelled at the bomb through gritted teeth. "You are embarrassing me in front of my friends!"

Tex shook her head in concern. "Caboose… I think you're losing it."

"Also, I wouldn't really call us 'friends'," Tucker added. "We're more like acquaintances, or people who work with other people they hate."

Meanwhile, Church went into the generator room to have a talk with the face on the computer screen. "Gary, I need you to tell me some more about the alien race that needs Tucker's sword."

"I DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THEM," Gary replied.

Church was flabbergasted. "You don't know _anything_ about the aliens that programmed you?"

"CORRECT." Gary nodded. "INSTEAD, THEY FILLED ALL MY MEMORY BANKS WITH INFORMATION ABOUT THE GREAT DESTROYER AND HIS RACE."

"You mean Humans."

"THAT IS NOT WHAT THEY CALL YOU, BUT CORRECT."

"Why, what do they call us?"

Gary gave an uncomfortable look before he answered. "SHISNO."

Church looked chagrined. "That's an insult, isn't it?"

"PERHAPS THIS CAN BEST BE EXPLAINED IN THE FORM OF A KNOCK-KNOCK JOKE."

Church sighed but decided to humor the computer.

"KNOCK KNOCK."

"Who's there?"

"YOU ARE."

"You are who?"

"YOU ARE A DIRTY, DIRTY SHISNO. HA, HA, HA."

"Alright," Church scowled. "What does it mean?"

Gary thought for a moment. "WHAT IS THE MOST FOUL-SMELLING ANIMAL ON YOUR PLANET?"

"Um, a skunk," Church replied then he frowned. "Wait, so Shisno means skunk?"

"NOT EXACTLY. DOES A SKUNK DEFECATE?"

"Well, _yes_."

"AND DOES THE SKUNK'S DEFECATION IN TURN PRODUCE ITS OWN EXCREMENT?"

"Ew, no!"

"THEN THERE IS NO EQUIVALENT FOR SHISNO IN YOUR OWN LANGUAGE."

Church pulled a disgusted face. "Gross…"

"LIKE YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE," Gary chuckled.

Church remembered the conversation he'd heard between Caboose and the others. "Hey, does that bomb ever talk to you?"

"THE BOMB? NO, NEVER."

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Church chuckled.

"ANDY AND I ARE NOT ON SPEAKING TERMS RIGHT NOW."

"Yeah…" Then Church's face fell. "Wait, Andy?"

"CORRECT," Gary replied. "HE IS KIND OF A JERK."

"I'm not the jerk," a new irritated voice called out. "You're the jerk, jerk!"

As Church whirled round at the voice, Gary scowled. "THAT WAS VERY RUDE."

"Ah, shut up, ya Shisno!" the voice retorted.

* * *

**Wow, who knew bombs could be so touchy?**


	17. Defusing the Situation

**Now Episode 55 ups the tension but just a little.**

* * *

Chapter 17: Defusing the Situation

Upon hearing the shouts from the hall, Church went out the generator room and down the passage to where Tex, Caboose and Tucker were standing next to the bomb.

"You're trying to tell us that this bomb can talk?" he heard Tucker ask as he arrived.

"I'm not telling you that," Caboose replied. "_He's_ telling you that."

"Yeah, and I'm standing right here," the angry voice snapped from the bomb. "You _can_ talk to me."

"If you could talk this whole time, then why didn't you just-" Tucker stopped talking and frowned. "Wait, why am I talking to a bomb? I'm not doing this."

"What, am I not _good enough_ to talk to?" Andy retorted. "Who do you think _you_ are, some kind of 'too good to talk to a bomb' type?"

Church quickly got between them. "Maybe it's a good idea not to piss off the explosive device," he advised his teammate.

"I agree," Tex added.

"I wasn't talking about you, Tex."

The Freelancer scowled. "Hey, why don't you suck my-"

"Did Gary say anything about the bomb being able to talk?" Tucker quickly interrupted.

"Well, just that this whole place is going to be destroyed by us," Church replied. "And that Andy here is probably the thing that does it."

"Oh, that's not good," Tucker muttered.

"I don't _think_ so," Andy yelled. "Bunch of _Shisnos_, if you ask me… And no one _did_ ask me, which I find insulting!"

"Alright, alright," Church cried out in a disarming manner. "Calm down, Andy, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down, I _am_ calm!" Andy retorted. "Look at me, I'm calm!"

"Caboose, calm this thing down before it has a meltdown," Church ordered.

Caboose nodded and knelt down by the bomb. "Andy, everyone here is your friend, and no one wants to hurt you."

"Yeah, right," Andy muttered.

"Come on, Andy," Caboose soothed. "Think of a happy place. Now what makes you happy?"

"Being in the middle of a _huge explosion!_" Andy yelled, glowing brighter.

"Less happy place, Caboose, less happy place," Church warned.

"Oh, uh," Caboose stumbled. "Think calming thoughts, uh… Let's count backwards from ten! Ten, nine, eight-"

"NO!" the others yelled.

Outside the building, the Reds were still trying to work on the distress signal's origins.

"Okay," Simmons announced from his position by the machinegun turret. "I'm 95% certain that the distress signal is coming from that way." He pointed towards the mountains.

"Excellent work, Simmons," Sarge acclaimed. "Alright men… and Grif, let's get ready to roll!"

But Grif wasn't so easily swayed. "Only 95% certain?"

Simmons sighed as he climbed down. "Grif, if there's one thing that I've learned in working with you, it's that there's _always_ margin for error."

"Excellent comeback, Simmons," Sarge commended. "That's a burn."

"Thank you, Sir," Simmons replied.

"Har, har, look who's so smart," Grif scowled. "It's pronounced _margarine_, dumbass."

Simmons groaned and slapped his hand to his visor. "Seriously, if I ever meet the guy that assigned you to our squad, I'm gonna kill him."

"Well, if you're 95% certain that it's _that_ way, then which way's the other 5%?"

"Whaddaya think? All the _other_ directions."

"Then I think _that's_ the way we should go."

Simmons glowered at his teammate. "You might be the dumbest person I have ever met."

"And I think you're just covering your ass," Grif countered.

At that moment, Donut came running up. "Hey, Sarge!"

But Simmons ignored him. "What? I'm not covering my ass," he yelled at Grif. "You're the one trying to cover yours!"

"No way!" Grif snapped back.

"Stop arguing you two," Sarge cut in, pushing the privates apart. "Simmons isn't covering his ass, and Grif certainly isn't covering his. No one's ass is being covered, got it?" He then turned his attention to the pink private. "Donut, whaddaya want?"

Donut had watched the argument with intrigue so he didn't expect Sarge to talk to him. "Uh… is that a trick question?"

"Donut…" Sarge growled.

Quickly Donut remembered why he came down here. "Well, I was up on the windmill again, and I think I found a route we can take outta here."

"Great!" Sarge clapped his hands together with zeal. "Simmons, load up. Donut, you back up Simmons."

"Yes sir, okey-dokey," Donut replied eagerly.

Sarge then turned to his least favorite private. "Grif, you get in the base and distract the Blues while we get ready to leave."

"Okay, be right back," Grif answered and he ran into the base.

"You're sending Grif?!" Simmons cried out, looking up from his work. "Don't you remember the last time you sent him to distract Command during our surprise inspection? He told them we were all in the Base doing last minute cleaning because we all had cholera, and we were in quarantine for a month! My ass still hurts from all the shots we got."

"Yeah, you can say that again," Donut agreed. "Mine hurts too."

"You weren't even there, Donut," Simmons reminded him.

"Oh…" Donut looked crestfallen. "I thought we were just sharing stuff."

"Wait a second," Grif yelled out from the base's doorway. "You guys better not just be sending me, so you can run off once I'm inside!"

"Of course not, moron, now hurry up!" Sarge shouted back. He waited until Grif went inside then he turned to the others. "Okay, everybody in the jeep."

Inside the base, Grif could hear the voices of the Blues in the generator room. Cautiously he peeked through the doorway and saw them gathered in a circle around the bomb.

"You are in a cool river," Caboose was saying, "where no one disturbs you or calls you names, like 'Bomby' or 'the Exploding Jerk'. There are sheep nearby, _the kind that don't blow up!_ You are happy, _but not overly happy_, regular happy."

"Breathe in through your nose…" Tex took a long sniff and then exhaled. "…and out through the mouth. Again, in through the nose…" She took another breath. "…and out through the mouth."

"Uh, maybe I'll get some candles," Church suggested. "Would you like some candles, or some incense, how about that?"

Grif shook his head in bafflement and slowly backed away from the doorway as Gary then spoke up. "HEY ANDY, KNOCK KNOCK."

"Who's there?" a grumpy voice replied.

"INNER PEACE AND SERENITY."

"I already heard that one."

Grif came out of the base and made his way to the other Reds.

"And when we get there," he heard Sarge say, "we'll radio Command and say we need a replacement, because we have absolutely no idea what happened to- Oh, Grif!"

"What're you doing back so soon?" Simmons asked. "That was the shortest distraction of all time."

Sarge then noticed the confounded look on Grif's face. "What's wrong? What were the Blues doing?"

"You know, I can honestly say I have no idea what I just saw," Grif muttered in a stunned trance. "Can I quit the army now? Seriously, I think I've seen everything I need to see at this point."

"If only I could make that happen, dirtbag," Sarge sighed regrettably.

"I mean it," Grif continued. "Just tell me where to turn in my gun, I'm done."

But Grif's consideration of deserting was coming too soon, for at that very moment, down at the beach outside the walls, Doc/O'Malley and Lopez were preparing their sinister counterattack.

From his position balanced on the top of a boulder, Lopez's head looked down at the lines of robots he had created. "Venga a mi ejército robotico," he called down. "Ahora es la día de nuestra victoria glorioso." (Come, my robot army. Today is the day of our glorious victory.)

Nearby, O'Malley let out a sinister laugh. "**Careful you fools, I need the device intact. Muahahahahahaaaa. Now kill all those fools! And those fools over there. And, those fools, leave no fool left unkilled. This army has a no fool discrimination clause. Hahaha.**"

"I like that we have a no fool discrimination clause," Doc called up from a puddle at O'Malley's feet. "It makes us progressive!"

"**Shut up, you fool!**" O'Malley snapped.

* * *

**Oh boy, now we're gonna get some action again!**


	18. Calm before the Storm

**We're now only two episodes away from completing this part.**

* * *

Chapter 18: Calm Before the Storm

Outside the main building of the base, Simmons tried to get his mind around what Grif had told them. "Okay, so let me get this straight," he said slowly. "They were talking… to the bomb."

"Dude, I don't know," Grif replied with a shrug. "They mentioned something about candles and bubble-bath, and they were playing some kind of a New Age CD. It's like a Yanni fan club meeting."

"That makes no sense at all," Sarge muttered. "Do you wanna translate for us, Pinky Pants?"

"My guess is that they're trying to get the bomb to do something for them," Donut replied.

"And all that sweet talk and candles will work on a bomb?" Simmons asked in disbelief.

"It would work on me!" Donut said.

Sarge then let out a gasp. "Don'cha see what they're trying to do?"

"No," Grif answered dimly. "Isn't _that_ the point of this conversation?"

"The Blues are obviously trying to coax the bomb into rearming!" Sarge declared. "They're about to launch an attack… on us!"

"Why would they do that?" Grif cried out.

"Because they're Blues!" Sarge clarified. "Somebody get this kid a manual."

"Oh-ho, I hate the Blues," Simmons stated.

"That's the spirit, Simmons," Sarge praised.

Outside the walls of the base, O'Malley was preparing his new robot army for battle.

"**Hoohoohoohahahahaaa,**" he chortled. "**And now the hour is at hand. _It is time_, my robot minions!**"

"He means robot miniones," Doc corrected from the puddle's reflection. "Where's your cultural sensitivity?"

"**Oh shut up!**" O'Malley yelled. "**At last, we will _seize_ our destiny!**"

"Do we really have to seize destiny?" Doc whined. "Can't we just invite it to join our online circle of friends?"

"**Quiet you fool,**" O'Malley snapped, stamping on the puddle and making it ripple. "**And quit sending me those invites, they're repulsive.**" He then turned back to his army. "**Prepare for battle! We will break upon their fortress like an evil wind!**"

"Ew," Doc grimaced.

"**Crushing our opponents with _lightning speed!_ ATTAAAAAACK!**"

"Charge!" With that cry, the robots raised their weapons and ran towards the base… at five miles an hour.

"**You there, hurry along, and you in the back…**" O'Malley groaned and turned to his lackey. "**Lopez, can't you speed them up?**"

"E esta es la velocidad máxima," Lopez replied. (This is their maximum velocity.)

"**This isn't what I asked for,**" O'Malley scowled.

"Dices des qué quieras esta día de victoria," Lopez recalled. "A este velocidad, va pasar veinte cuatro horas para ganar." (You said you wanted a _day_ of victory. At this speed, they will win in exactly 24 hours.)

O'Malley let out an angry sigh and slapped his borrowed hand to his borrowed visor.

Inside the generator room, the Blues had finally managed to get Andy in a relaxed state.

"So, we cool here?" Church asked his team.

"I think we're finally calmed down," Tucker replied.

"Yes," Caboose agreed. "We are all better now, we are not mad and we are definitely not thinking about exploding at all anymore."

"Hey, are you talking about me?" Andy asked suspiciously.

"What? No, course not," Church replied. "We just wanna make sure that we're all happy and that we're not upset in any way whatsoever."

"Don't say 'we'," Andy snapped. "You really mean me, I mean you, which in this case, _is_ me."

"No, no, no," Church said hastily. "Uh, we're uh, talking about Tex."

"Excuse me?" Tex cried out.

"Hey, you wanna die in an explosion? Play along," Church hissed then aloud, "Yeah, um… I don't know if you've noticed, but she's uh… she's kind of a bitch. Isn't that right, Tex?"

"Church…" Tex growled through her teeth.

"I don't know," Andy muttered unsurely.

"Come on, Tex," Tucker urged silently.

Tex let out a reluctant sigh. "Yes… we're talking about me."

"Sounds like you're patronizing me," Andy retorted.

"No really," Tex argued loathingly. "It's me, I'm a bitch."

"Keep going," Church hissed.

"And I need to be calmed down _all the time_."

"Or what happens?"

"Or else, I get so mad, I kill people on my own team."

Church gulped. "I see your point."

"Tell him about the moodiness, and the crankiness," Caboose suggested.

"Also," Tucker added. "Mention that you like to punch people in the head while they sleep."

"That was you?!" Caboose whimpered. "I thought the Tooth Fairy was mad at me!"

"_Well,_ she sounds like a real handful," Andy replied.

"Alright, listen you little noob firecracker!" Tex snapped, stepping towards Andy.

But Church quickly restrained her. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" He then turned to the bomb. "See what I mean, Andy? Volatile…"

"I am _so_ gonna remember this, Church," Tex warned.

"You should sleep with your pillow on top… of your head tonight," Caboose advised.

"Yes, that's funny," Church giggled nervously. "Make all the threats you want. As long as everyone is calm and peaceful, and there's nothing to make us excited, I don't care."

Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the base and O'Malley's voice called out, "**Attack, my robot minions!**"

Church winced as he turned towards a window. "I could almost feel that coming, right as I finished that sentence."

Outside, as the sound of the explosion faded, the Reds looked towards the smoke in alarm.

"What the hell was that?" Sarge cried out.

"It sounded like a huge explosion!" Simmons replied.

"Chantilly lace!" Sarge yelped. "That means the Blues have rearmed the bomb!"

"Wait," Grif cut in. "They rearmed it and it exploded. Isn't that good for us?"

"Grif, don't interrupt me when I'm leading in a battle situation!" Sarge snapped.

"We're in battle?"

"Course we are," Sarge yelled out. "Now get ready for your orders. Donut!"

"Yes sir?" the pink private said.

"Scream like a woman!"

"Can do!" Donut then ran off across the grounds screaming like there's no tomorrow. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! We're all gonna die! We're gonna die!"

"Grif!"

"What?" the orange Spartan sighed.

"Prepare to sacrifice yourself to save a nearby superior officer."

"I don't think I've been trained for that."

"Simmons, kiss ass at will!"

"You're both an excellent leader, _and_ a handsome man, Sir," the maroon soldier replied without pause.

"Excellent work, Simmons," Sarge beamed. "Incoming!"

The Reds dropped to the ground to avoid the rocket zooming over their heads.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! We're all gonna die! Can't someone help me?" Donut paused to catch his breath then he continued screaming, "WHAAAAAAAAAAA! Won't someone help me?"

"Grif, you're up," Sarge commanded.

"Permission to assist Donut, sir," Grif called out.

"Permission denied," Sarge replied. "Continue with Operation Meatshield. Remember, just because your bones are broken doesn't mean they won't stop bullets from hitting me! Now get out there!"

"Good call, Sir!" Simmons cheered.

"You're on your way to a medal, Simmons," Sarge beamed. "In fact, medals all the way round: a Purple Heart for Grif, a Pink Heart for Donut and a Brown Nose for Simmons."

Donut meanwhile was still screaming in terror. "WHAAAAAAAAAAAA! Help me, somebody! I'm too young to die! I'm too pretty to die! I haven't even seen Paris yet!"

* * *

**I'll say this for Donut; he certainly knows how to follow orders.**


	19. The Storm

**And now, it's time for the explosive and shocking conclusion of Part 3!**

* * *

Chapter 19: The Storm

By the big fan of the base's inner wall, Lopez's army trudged slowly up the ramp, weapons raised and still shouting "Charge!"

On a nearby platform, O'Malley was getting annoyed. He had tried to speed up the attack by shooting rockets at the base, but still the robots were excruciatingly slow. "**Oh, for God's sake, will you hurry up?**" He turned to the head of his robot. "**Lopez, I'm disappointed in your work. These minions are _much_ too slow.**"

"Creo que esta moviéndro muy bien," Lopez argued. (I think they are moving along nicely.)

"**You fool!**" O'Malley snapped. "**You don't even have legs and you _still_ got up here faster than them!**"

"Usted es los cerebros en esta operación," Lopez retorted. "Yo no mas soy el músculo." (Hey, you're the brains in this operation. I'm just the brawn.)

"They may be slow, but their posture is excellent," Doc complimented from the puddle. "A for effort, Lopez!"

O'Malley let out an exasperated sigh.

Inside the inner wall of the base, the Reds were preparing their next move.

"I think they're distracted," Sarge said, noting the sudden lack of rockets. "Let's use this chance to slip away."

"Good idea, sir," Simmons agreed. "I have a lock on the distress signal. We can head right for it."

"Good thinking, Simmons," Sarge commended. "Everyone, in the jeep."

"Shotgun!" Simmons called out.

"Shotgun!" Grif cried out, once again just too late. "Fuck!"

"Shotgun's lap!" Donut then said.

"Fuck!" Simmons yelled.

"There's just no room for four people," Sarge reminded them. "Someone will need to jog alongside. Grif?"

The orange Spartan looked confused. "_Jog?_ what's that?"

"It's like running slowly," Simmons replied disbelievingly. "Dear God, you don't know what jogging means?"

"Yeah, you lost me at running," Grif replied. "Sorry, it's not in my contract."

"Oh don't worry, I'll do it," Donut volunteered. "Just give me one second while I put my jogging shorts on."

"Wait," Grif cried. "I wanna reconsider."

Donut meanwhile had pulled a sweatband on over his helmet and was stretching his muscles out. "Who wants to hold my ankles while I stretch out my hammies?"

"No one's falling for that twice, Donut," Sarge retorted.

Inside the base, the Blues were preparing themselves to fight the robots off.

In one passageway, Tucker whipped his energy sword out and switched it on while Tex assessed the situation through one of the windows.

"Alright, I think I can take them," she stated. "I just need a better weapon."

"Want me to help you find one?" Tucker offered.

"Hmmm," Tex muttered. "Why don't you just give me your sword?"

"No way," Tucker retorted, holding his sword out of reach. "I can see right through your little ploy. You just want me to give you my sword."

"That's what I just said."

"Yeah, but it's the _way_ you said it."

Tex sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know, it's a good thing that that sword doesn't run on brainpower…" Then she stared over the teal soldier's shoulder. "Oh my God, Tucker, look! Hot chicks!"

"Nice try," Tucker scoffed. "You just want me to turn around so you can knock me out and take the sword."

Tex then grinned. "Now the hot chicks are making out!"

"Okay, that's worth the risk." Tucker turned round but saw nothing. "Aw, crap…" He then felt a blow on the back of his head and collapsed to the ground. The last thing he saw before darkness took over his senses was Tex grabbing the deactivated sword and running off down the passage…

In another hallway, Caboose was carrying the bomb over to a safe spot.

"Just stay calm, Andy," he comforted worryingly. "Everything will be fine."

"I'm okay, really," Andy reassured. "I like explosions. You on the other hand look a little nervous."

"You know, I always get a little nervous during battles," Caboose admitted. "I think it's because we never win."

"Eh, don't sweat it. If they get in the base, I'll just explode and kill everybody."

"Wouldn't that kill us too, Andy?"

"Hey, you can't make an omelette without blowing up a few eggs."

Caboose paused for a moment. "I like eggs."

"Yeah, me too," Andy agreed.

Meanwhile, Church was in the generator room, consulting the face on the computer. "Gary, is it possible that the Great Destroyer could be an entire army of people?"

"NO, THE GREAT DESTROYER IS A SINGLE PERSON WHO WILL COME TO CLAIM THE GREAT WEAPON."

"Yeah, that's great," Church sighed.

Gary then looked out into space with awe. "PREPARE, ONE AND ALL. THE FULFILLMENT OF THE GREAT PROPHECY IS AT HAND."

"So you have no good news for me today," Church groaned.

Gary looked back and beamed. "ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN'T SAY BANANA?"

Outside, Sarge drove the Warthog Mk 2 out of the walls and onto the beach while Donut jogged just behind. "Let's go, men."

From his position behind the machinegun, Grif turned round and saw a robot coming towards them. "One of them's following us!"

"We're going too slow," Sarge decided. "We have to leave someone behind."

"Not it!" Simmons cried out.

"Not it!" Grif added.

"What?" Donut cried out, skidding to a halt. "No way! You're leaving me behind?"

Sarge stopped the jeep and looked round. "Sorry, Donut, but military law is very clear in regard to the 'not it' methodology for making decisions."

"Aw man," Donut muttered. "There's still so much about the army I don't understand."

"Here he comes!" Grif yelled out.

"Donut, you hide here and wait for the guy tailing us," Sarge ordered. "Then when he passes, shoot him square in the back and watch him die, just like John Wayne would have done."

"Hurry up, guys!" Grif urged, watching as the robot trundled slowly up the path. "He's getting closer! No wait, no he, yeah he _is_ getting closer. No… _yes!_"

Donut looked uncomfortable. "All this retreating and shooting people in the back doesn't sound very noble."

"We're not retreating," Sarge retorted. "We're advancing… towards future victory!"

"How am I gonna find you guys?" Donut asked.

"Just follow the distress signal to its source," Simmons replied. "You'll find us there."

"But I don't have a way to track it!" Donut pointed out.

Sarge exchanged glances with Grif and Simmons before replying, "Excellent point, Donut." And they drove off towards the mountains.

"Thank you sir," Donut called out then he sat down on a rock and waited for the robot. He let out a breath, smacked his lips for a bit and whistled a little tune but still the robot didn't come any closer. "Oh, God," he sighed, getting back to his feet. "Well, I've got some time." And he set off towards the base.

Meanwhile, the robots had reached the base and were firing at the complex… one at a time. "Attack!"

"**Faster, faster!**" O'Malley encouraged. "**Oh, pathetic. Lopez, how do I say faster in Spanish?**"

With a cheeky grin, Lopez called O'Malley over and whispered some words to him.

"**Okay, got it,**" O'Malley replied then he turned to the robots. "**Huhuh, soy un pendejo púrpuras que gusta tomar aceite.**" (**Hey everyone, I am a purple jerk and I love to drink motor oil!**)

The robots stopped shooting to look at O'Malley as he turned to Lopez. "**That was rather looong to mean hurry up.**"

"Es una lengua muy poética," Lopez replied, struggling to stifle his giggles. (It's a very poetic language.)

As O'Malley continued shouting insults of himself in Spanish without knowing what he's saying, Donut peered around from behind a pillar. "Oh man, it's that _creepy_ dude. I wonder why he's insulting himself." He shook his head in confusion. "Qué curioso." (How strange.) Then he spotted the large mauve vehicle. "Ooh, the motorcycle!"

Cautiously, he slipped past O'Malley's podium and ran over to the scooter.

"**Mi cola es muy grande,**" O'Malley yelled at the robots. "**Y mi gusta frotar mi cola. Y quiero oler mi cola e también besar, a mi cola.**" (**My butt is very big. And I like to rub my own butt. ****And I like to sniff my own butt and kiss my own butt.)** He turned back to Lopez. "**Are you sure cola means evil?**"

But Lopez was watching as Donut started up the scooter and zoomed away. "Jefe, alguien está robandro su vehículo." (Hey boss, someone is stealing your vehicle.)

"**Oh drat!**" O'Malley seethed. "**I only had two payments left!**"

"¿Tiene aseguran da?" (Do you have insurance on it?)

"**Of course not, it's a scam.**"

"¿Por que? Vivimos en un barrio muy mal." (Why not? We live in a bad neighborhood.)

"**Of course we live in a bad neighborhood. We're _evil doers!_ We're what makes this neighborhood bad.**"

Meanwhile, Church had run out of the generator room and come across Tucker as he regained consciousness. "Whoa, Tucker, are you okay?"

"Ohh, damn," Tucker groaned as he stood up, rubbing his head. "Okay, new rule: We start rotating knockouts. Next time, it's your turn."

"Hey, good idea," Church replied. "And next time Caboose decides he wants to go around team killing, you can take that one."

Tucker shuddered at the thought. "Maybe we should all stick to what we know best."

Church then noticed the absence of the sword. "Hey, where's your weapon?"

"Do you think she knocked me out for fun?" Tucker retorted. "This isn't Tuesday, dude. She took it!"

"Oh man, this is not gonna be good," Church muttered, running down the passage with Tucker just behind.

Outside, as the robots continued their leisurely attack, a shadowy figure approached from the edge of the cliffs. Then a plasma grenade landed amongst the robots and before they could react, it went off, sending them flying.

"**What was that?**" O'Malley cried out.

"Uh oh," Doc gulped.

At once, the figure began its attack, lobbing grenades at the robots, taking them out one by one.

As the robots were destroyed, in the generator room, Gary flashed red and went into a panic attack. "THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED, THE END IS NEAR! THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED, THE END IS NEAR!"

Quickly, O'Malley grabbed Lopez and scarpered for cover behind some rocks. He then placed the head on the highest boulder. "**Lopez, do you see anything?**"

"No, mas robotesas muertas," Lopez moaned. "Mi ejército hermosa destruyó." (No, just dead robots everywhere. My beautiful robot army, destroyed.)

O'Malley started to slip towards the back of the rocks. "**I'm going to sneak around the side. Let me know if you see anything, Lopez.**" But there was no response. "**Lopez? Lopez!**" He turned slowly around and spotted the shadowy figure glowering at him. "**OH, NO!**"

As the figure pounced, O'Malley ran for his life, screaming at the top of his voice. "**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**"

Meanwhile, using the tracking computer on the bike, Donut caught up with the other Reds as they found a cave in the mountains and they all set off along the tunnel following the distress signal.

"Just a little bit further, guys," Simmons called out, moving on ahead with Grif.

Sarge stared in amazement at the scooter that Donut was riding. "You stole that thing all by yourself?"

"Yep," Donut nodded, dismounting the scooter. "And then I ran over the guy that was chasing us, and a few other innocent pedestrians."

"I'm so proud of you," Sarge beamed.

"Yeah," Donut chuckled. "Stealing and killing are a huge rush. I wish I'd started at a much younger age. I caught the fever!"

"Okay," Simmons called out from further down the cave. "The source of this distress signal is right outside this- _Crap!_"

Hearing Simmons' yell, Sarge and Donut ran down the tunnel and spotted Simmons and Grif staring out of the exit in stunned silence. And as they followed their gaze out the entrance, they both gasped in horror.

The cave came out at the top of a cliff on the wall of a large box canyon. On either side of the canyon, there was a large building, adorned with banners colored red and blue respectively. To the casual observer, it didn't seem like much, but to the Reds, this place was awfully familiar: They were back at the canyon known only as… Blood Gulch!

For a while, the Reds were silent. But Grif was the one who answered for all of them. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH OHOHOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! …This sucks."

Back at the complex, Church and Tucker emerged from the passageway and stood on the wall, looking down at the robotic carnage below.

"Wow," Church breathed. "She really did a lot of damage."

"Are you surprised?" Tucker asked.

"No, not really," Church admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess not."

Tucker sighed and shook his head in admiration. "I'll tell you what; it's days like today that I'm really glad she's on our side."

"Who's on our side?" a voice called out. Church and Tucker whirled round to see Tex staring at the destruction. "Whoa! Who killed all the robots?"

"You did," Church replied.

"No I didn't," Tex said.

"WHAT?"

"I've been downstairs, trying to figure out how to turn this sword on." Tex held up the handle of the sword.

"Wait a second…" Church quickly ran back down the passage.

"Just push the power button," Tucker told her.

"I did." Tex pressed the button and nothing happened. "That didn't work."

"Yeah, that's surprising," Tucker scoffed and was punched in the face for that.

Meanwhile, Church kept running down the passage and as he neared the generator room, he could hear Gary still in a panic. "THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED, THE END IS NEAR! THE GREAT DESTROYER HAS ARRIVED, THE END IS NEAR!"

"Oh, come on, Gary, Gary, Gary, stop, stop, stop!" Church yelled, running up to the screen. "Hey listen, if Tex is not the Destroyer from the prophecy, then who is?"

At once, the computer face fell silent and faded back to blue.

"Gary?" Church asked.

The face then turned to look over Church's shoulder. "KNOCK KNOCK."

"Who's there?" Church sighed, completely unaware of the monstrous blue alien creature sneaking up from behind him…

* * *

**And once again, this part ends on a cliffhanger. Once again, I'm taking a quick break from writing for a bit, but I hope to continue the story with Part 4. My thanks go to Warlord-Xana for the tips on one of the scenes and to all the other readers of the series so far.**


End file.
